OF  THE 
UNTVEBBm 


THE   RESCUE  OF  THE   CASTAWAYS. 
'The  rescue  occupied  considerable  time  and  work."     (See  page  283.) 


The  Last  of  the  Flatboats 


A  Story  of  the  Mississippi  and  its 
interesting  family  of  rivers 


By 


GEORGE    CARY   EGGLESTON 

Author  of  "  The  Big  Brother,"  "  Captain  Sam," 

"The  Signal  Boys,"    "  The  Wreck  of 

the  Red  Bird,"  etc.,  etc. 


BOSTON 
LOTHROP   PUBLISHING   COMPANY 


COPYRIGHT,   1900, 
BY  LOTHROP 
PUBLISHING 
COMPANY. 


Norfoooti  -pregg 

J.  8.  Cuihing  &  Co.  —  Berwick  &  Smith 
Norwood  Mass.  U.S.A. 


TO    MY    LAST-BORN    BOY 

CARY   EGGLESTON 

A  brave,  manly  fellow 

Who  knows  how  to  swim 

How  to  catch  fish 

How  to  handle  his  boat 

How  to  shoot  straight  with  a  rifle 

And  how  to  tell  the  truth  every  time 

I  Jiefctcate 

This  Story  about  some  other  Boys  of  his  kind 

GEORGE   CARY    EGGLESTON 

Culross-on-Lake-  George 


Wi72232'l 


Preface 

Vevay,  from  which  "  The  Last  of  the  Flat- 
boats  "  starts  on  its  voyage  down  the  Mis- 
sissippi, is  a  beautiful  little  Indiana  town 
on  the  Ohio  River,  about  midway  between 
Cincinnati  and  Louisville.  The  town  and 
Switzerland  County,  of  which  it  is  the  capi- 
tal, were  settled  by  a  company  of  energetic 
and  thrifty  Swiss  immigrants,  about  the  year 
1805.  Their  family  names  are  still  domi- 
nant in  the  town.  I  recall  the  following  as 
familiar  to  me  there  in  my  boyhood :  Gri- 
sard,  Thiebaud,  Le  Clerc,  Moreraud,  De- 
traz,  Tardy,  Malin,  Golay,  Courvoisseur, 
Danglade,  Bettens,  Minnit,  Violet,  Dufour, 
Dumont,  Duprez,  Medary,  Schenck,  and 
others  of  Swiss  origin. 

The  name  Thiebaud,  used  in  this  story, 
was  always  pronounced  "  Kaybo  "  in  Vevay. 
The  name  Moreraud  was  called  "  Murrow." 
5 


6  PREFACE 

The  map  which  accompanies  this  volume 
was  specially  prepared  for  it  by  Lieut.-CoL 
Alexander  McKenzie  of  the  Corps  of  Engi- 
neers of  the  United  States  Army.  To  his 
skill,  learning,  and  courtesy  I  and  my  read- 
ers are  indebted  for  the  careful  marking  of 
the  practically  navigable  parts  of  the  great 
river  system,  and  for  the  calculation  of  mile- 
age in  every  case. 

G.  C.  E. 


Contents 

Chapter 

Page 

I. 

The  Rescue  of  the  Pigs 

9 

II. 

How  it  All  Began 

17 

III. 

Captain  Phil      .... 

■       27 

IV. 

A  Hurry  Call   .          .          .          . 

•       33 

V. 

On  the  Banks  of  the  Wonderful  River 

.       40 

VI. 

The  Pilot          .... 

■       47 

VII. 

Talking 

-       S^ 

VIII. 

The  Right  to  the  River 

,       62 

IX. 

What  happened  at  Louisville 

•       7i 

X. 

Jim 

►       77 

XI. 

The  Wonderful  River 

,       86 

XII. 

The  Wonderful  River's  Work 

95 

XIII. 

The  Terror  of  the  River      .          .          , 

105 

XIV. 

In  the  Home  of  the  Earthquakes  . 

118 

XV. 

In  the  Chute 

131 

XVI. 

"  Talking  Business  "           . 

147 

XVII. 

At  Anchor        .          •          •          •          , 

161 

XVIII. 

At  Breakfast      .          .                    .          , 

170 

XIX. 

Scuttle  Chatter            . 

179 

XX. 

At  Memphis 

190 

XXI. 

A  Wrestle  with  the  River    . 
7 

198 

8 

CONTENTS 

Chapter 

Page 

XXII. 

In  the  Fog  . 

209 

XXIII. 

Through  the  Crevasse    . 

219 

XXIV. 

A  Little  Amateur  Surgery 

.      228 

XXV. 

A  Voyage  in  the  Woods 

.      236 

XXVI. 

The  Crew  and  their  Captain 

.     245 

XXVII. 

A  Struggle  in  the  Dark  . 

,     251 

XXVIII. 

A  Hard- won  Victory 

261 

XXIX. 

Rescue 

►     278 

XXX. 

A  Yazoo  Afternoon 

291 

XXXI. 

An  Offer  of  Help 

•     304 

XXXII. 

Publicity 

►     312 

XXXIII. 

Down  "The  Coast  " 

•     3H 

XXXIV. 

A  Talk  on  Deck  . 

336 

XXXV. 

Looking  Forward 

348 

XXXVI. 

The  Last  Landing 

361 

XXXVII. 

Red-Letter  Days  in  New  Orleans     , 

37o 

XXXVIII. 

"It" 

« 

379 

The  Last  of  the  Flatboats 

CHAPTER   I 

THE    RESCUE    OF    THE    PIGS 

"  Give  it  up,  boys ;  you're  tired,  and 
you've  been  in  the  water  too  long  already. 
And,  besides,  I've  decided  that  this  job's 
done."     , 

It  was  Ed  Lowry  who  spoke.  He  was 
lying  on  the  sand  under  a  big  sycamore  tree 
that  had  slid,  roots  and  all,  off  the  river 
bank  above,  and  now  stood  leaning  like  a 
drunken  man  trying  to  stand  upright. 

Ed  was  a  tall,  slender,  and  not  at  all 
robust  boy,  with  a  big  head,  and  a  tremen- 
dous shock  of  half-curly  hair  to  make  it 
look  bigger. 

The  four  boys  whom  he  addressed  had 
been  diving  in  the  river  and  struggling 
with  something  under  the  water,  but  without 
success.  Three  of  them  accepted  Ed's  sug- 
gestion, as  all  of  them  were  accustomed  to 
9 


io    THE   LAST   OF   THE    FLATBOATS 

do,  not  because  he  had  any  particular  right 
to  make  suggestions  to  them,  but  because 
he  was  so  far  the  moral  and  intellectual  su- 
perior of  every  boy  in  town,  and  was  always 
so  wise  and  kindly  and  just  in  his  decisions, 
that  they  had  come  to  regard  his  word  as  a 
sort  of  law  without  themselves  quite  knowing 
why. 

Three  of  the  boys  left  the  river,  therefore, 
shook  the  water  off  their  sunburned  bodies, 
—  for  they  had  no  towels, — and  slipped  into 
the  loose  shirt  and  cottonade  trousers  that 
constituted  their  sole  costume. 

The  other  boy  —  Ed's  younger  brother, 
Philip  —  was  not  so  ready  to  accept  sugges- 
tions. In  response  to  Ed's  call,  he  cried 
out  in  a  sort  of  mock  heroics  :  — 

"  Never  say  die !  In  the  words  of  the 
immortal  Lawrence,  or  some  other  immortal 
who  died  a  long  time  ago,  c  Don't  give  up 
the  ship  ! '  Fm  going  to  get  that  pig  if  it 
takes  all  summer." 

The  boys  all  laughed  as  they  threw 
themselves  down  upon  the  sand  by   Ed. 

"  Might  as  well  let  him  alone,"  said  Will 
Moreraud  ;  "  he  never  will  quit." 

Meantime  Phil  had  dived  three  or  four 
times  more,  each  time  going  down  head  first, 


THE    RESCUE   OF   THE    PIGS       n 

wrestling  with  the  object  as  long  as  he  could 
hold  his  breath,  and  each  time  manifestly 
moving  one  end  or  the  other  of  it  nearer 
the  shore,  and  into  shallower  water,  before 
coming  to  the  surface  again. 

When  he  had  caught  his  breath  after  the 
third  or  fourth  struggle,  he  called  out :  — 

"  I  say,  boys,  it  isn't  a  pig  at  all,  but  a 
good  average-sized  elephant,  c  Sink  or  swim, 
live  or  die,  survive  or  perish,'  Fm  going  to 
get  that  animal  ashore." 

"  He'll  do  it,  too,"  said  Constant  Thie- 
baud. 

"  Of  course  he  will,"  drawled  Irving 
Strong.  "  It's  a  way  he  has.  He  never 
gives  up  anything.  Don't  you  remember 
how  he  stuck  to  that  sum  in  the  arithmetic 
about  that  cistern  whose  idiotic  builder  had 
put  three  different  sized  pipes  to  run  water 
into  it,  and  two  others  of  still  different  sizes 
to  run  water  out  ?  He  worked  three  weeks 
over  that  thing  after  all  the  rest  of  us  gave 
it  up  and  got  Mrs.  Dupont  to  show  us  — 
and  he  got  it,  too." 

"  Yes,  and  he  can  do  it  now  backwards  or 
forwards  or  standing  on  his  head,"  said 
Constant  Thiebaud ;  "  while  there  isn't 
another  boy  here  that  can  do  it  at  all." 


12    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 


"  Except  Ed  Lowry,"  said  Irving  Strong. 
"  But  then,  he's  different,  and  knows  a  whole 
lot  about  the  higher  mathematics,  while  we're 
only  in  algebra.  How  is  it,  Ed  ?  You've 
been  sick  so  much  that  I  don't  believe  you 
ever  did  go  to  school  more  than  a  month 
at  a  time,  and  yet  you're  ahead  of  all  of 
us. 

Just  then  Phil  came  up  after  a  long  tussel 
under  the  water,  and  this  time  stood  only  a 
little  way  from  shore  where  the  water  was 
not  more  than  breast  high.     He  cried  :  — 

"  Now  I've  c  met  the  enemy  and  it's  ours,' 
or  words  to  that  effect.  I've  got  the  ele- 
phant into  three  feet  of  water,  but  I  can't 
1  personally  conduct '  it  ashore.  Come  here, 
all  of  you,  and  help." 

The  boys  quickly  dropped  out_  of  their 
clothes,  and  went  to  their  comrade's  assist- 
ance. 

"  What  is  the  thing,  anyhow  ?  "  asked 
Irving  Strong. 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Phil.  "  All  I  know 
is  that  it's  got  elbows  and  wrists  and  all 
sorts  of  burs  on  it,  on  which  I've  been  skin- 
ning my  shins  for  the  last  half  hour ;  and 
that  it  is  heavier  than  one  of  your  compo- 
sitions, Irv." 


THE   RESCUE   OF   THE   PIGS       13 

The  thing  was  in  water  so  shallow  that  all 
the  boys  at  once  could  get  at  it  merely  by 
bending  forward  and  plunging  their  heads  and 
shoulders  under  the  surface.  But  it  was  so 
unwieldy  that  it  took  all  five  of  them  —  for 
Ed  too  had  joined,  as  he  always  did  when 
there  was  need  of  him  —  fully  ten  minutes 
to  bring  it  out  upon  shore. 

"  I  say,  boys,"  said  Ed,  "  this  is  a  big 
find.  It's  that  ferry-boat  shaft  the  iron  man 
told  us  about,  and  you  remember  we  are  to 
have  fifty  dollars  for  it." 

"  Then  hurrah  for  Phil  Lowry's  obstinate 
pertinacity  !  "  said  Irving  Strong.  "  That's 
what  Mrs.  Dupont  called  it  when  she 
bracketed  his  name  and  mine  together  on 
the  bulletin-board  as  c  Irreclaimable  whis- 
perers.' Phil,  you  may  be  irreclaimable, 
but  you've  proved  that  this  shaft  isn't." 

It  was  just  below  the  little  old  town  of 
Vevay  on  the  Ohio  River,  where  Swiss 
names  and  some  few  Swiss  customs  still 
survived  long  after  the  Swiss  settlers  of 
1805  were  buried.  To  be  exact,  it  was 
at  "The  Point,"  where  all  Vevay  boys 
went  for  their  swimming  because  it  lay  a 
little  beyond  the  town  limits,  and  so  Joe 
Peelman,    the    marshal,    could    not    arrest 


i4    THE   LAST   OF   THE    FLATBOATS 

them  for  swimming  there  in  daylight  with- 
out their  clothes. 

During  the  high  water  of  the  preceding 
winter  a  barge  loaded  with  pig-iron  had 
broken  in  two  there  and  sunk.  The  strong 
current  quickly  carried  away  what  was  left 
of  the  wrecked  barge,  —  which  had  been 
scarcely  more  than  a  great  oblong  box, — 
leaving  the  iron  to  be  undermined  by  the 
water  and  to  sink  into  the  sand  and  gravel 
of  the  bottom. 

The  agent  who  came  to  look  after  matters 
quickly  decided  that  at  such  a  place  very 
little  of  the  cargo  could  ever  be  recovered 
—  not  enough  to  justify  him  in  sending 
a  wrecking  force  there.  He  thought,  too, 
that  by  the  time  of  summer  low  water  —  for 
the  Ohio  runs  very  low  indeed  in  July  and 
August  —  the  iron  would  have  settled  and 
scattered  too  much  to  be  worth  searching 
for. 

But  Phil  Lowry  not  only  never  liked  to 
give  up,  he  never  liked  to  see  anybody  else 
give  up.  So  what  he  looked  upon  as  the 
iron  man's  weak  surrender  gave  him  an 
idea.     He  said  to  the  agent :  — 

"That  iron's  where  we  boys  go  swim- 
ming in  summer-time.     If  we  get  any  of  it 


THE    RESCUE    OF   THE    PIGS       15 

out  during  the  low  water,  can  we  have  it  ? 
Is  it  c  finder's  keeper  *  ?  " 

"Well,  no,"  said  the  man,  hesitating. 
"But  I'll  tell  you  what  I'll  do.  If  you 
boys  get  out  any  considerable  quantity, — 
say  fifty  tons  or  more,  —  enough  to  justify 
me  in  sending  a  steamboat  after  it,  I'll  pay 
you  three  dollars  a  ton  salvage  for  it." 

So  the  boys  formed  a  salvage  copartner- 
ship. Long-headed  Ed  Lowry,  in  order  to 
avoid  misunderstandings,  drew  up  an  agree- 
ment, and  the  iron  man  signed  it.  It  gave 
the  boys  entire  charge  of  the  wreck,  and 
bound  the  owner  to  pay  for  recovered  iron 
as  he  had  proposed.  Just  before  signing  the 
paper  the  agent  remembered  the  ferry-boat 
wheel  shaft,  which  had  been  a  part  of  the 
cargo  ;  and  as  it  was  a  valuable  piece  of  prop- 
erty, which  he  particularly  wanted  to  recover, 
he  added  a  clause  to  the  contract  agreeing  to 
pay  an  additional  fifty  dollars  for  it,  if  by  any 
remote  chance  it  should  be  saved. 

During  the  summer  the  boys  had  been 
specially  favored  by  circumstances.  The 
river  had  gone  down  much  earlier  that  year 
than  usual,  and  it  went  at  last  much  lower 
than  it  had  done  for  many  years  past.  As 
a  consequence  they  had    prospered  well   in 


1 6    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FT  ATBOATS 


their  enterprise.  Their  pile  of  iron  "  pigs  V 
on  the  shore  when  the  shaft  was  found 
amounted  to  three  hundred  tons,  and  the 
agent  was  to  arrive  by  the  packet  that  night 
to  pay  for  it  and  take  possession.  This  was, 
therefore,  their  last  day's  work,  and  thanks 
to  Philip  Lowry's  "  obstinate  pertinacity  "  it 
was  the  most  profitable  day's  work  of  them 
all. 


CHAPTER   II 


HOW    IT    ALL    BEGAN 


When  the  wheel  shaft  was  tugged  ashore, 
the  boys  slipped  on  their  clothes  again  and 
retired  to  the  shade  of  the  big  sycamore  tree, 
where  Ed  Lowry  had  left  the  book  he  had 
been  reading.  Ed  Lowry  always  had  a  book 
within  reach. 

Philip  threw  himself  down  to  rest.  He 
was  not  only  tired,  he  was  physically  "  used 
up  "  with  his  labors  under  water  in  tugging 
first  one  and  then  the  other  end  of  the  heavy 
shaft  toward  the  shore. 

It  would  have  been  very  hard  work  even 
in  the  open  air.  Under  water,  and  without 
breath,  it  had  completely  exhausted  the  boy. 
Just  now  he  was  bent  upon  sleep.  So  in 
spite  of  the  sun  glare,  and  in  spite  of  the 
chatter  around  him,  and  still  more,  in  spite 
of  a  sense  of  triumph  which  was  strong 
enough  in  him  to  have  kept  anybody  else 
awake,  he  fell  into  a  profound  slumber. 
c  17 


18    THE   LAST   OF   THE    FLATBOATS 

"Well,  we've  finished  the  job,"  said  Con- 
stant Thiebaud  after  a  while.  "  What's  the 
result,  Ed  ? " 

Ed  Lowry  pulled  a  memorandum  out  of 
his  pocket  and  studied  it  for  a  while. 

"  We  have  saved  a  trifle  over  three  hun- 
dred tons  of  pig-iron/'  he  replied,  "  and  for 
that,  at  $3.00  a  ton,  will  get  a  little  over 
$900.  We're  to  get  $50  more  for  the  shaft, 
which  makes  $950.  It'll  be  a  trifle  more 
than  that,  but  not  enough  more  to  count. 
My  calculation  is  that  we  shall  have  about 
$190  apiece  when  the  agent  settles  with  us 
to-night — possibly  $195." 

"And  a  mighty  good  summer's  work  it 
is,"  said  Will  Moreraud. 

"  Especially  as  it's  been  all  fun,"  said  Irv 
Strong,  "  to  a  parcel  of  amphibious  Ohio 
River  boys  who  would  have  stayed  in  the 
water  most  of  the  time  anyhow.  It's  better 
fun  diving  after  pig-iron  than  after  mussel- 
shells,  isn't  it  ? " 

Irving  was  the  only  boy  in  the  party 
whose  people  were  comparatively  well-to-do, 
and  who  could  therefore  afford  to  think  of 
the  fun  they  had  had  without  much  concern 
for  the  profits.  But  Irv  Strong  had  no 
trace    of  arrogance    in    his   make-up.       He 


HOW   IT   ALL   BEGAN  19 

could  have  dressed,  if  he  had  chosen,  in 
much  better  fashion  than  any  other  boy  in 
town.  But  he  chose  instead  to  wear  blue 
cottonade  trousers  and  a  tow  linen  shirt,  and 
to  go  barefoot  just  as  his  comrades  did.  So 
in  speaking  of  the  pleasure  they  had  had,  he 
put  the  matter  in  a  way  that  all  could  sym- 
pathize with.  For  truly  they  had  had  more 
"  fun  "  as  he  called  it,  than  ever  before  in 
their  lives.  Ed  Lowry  could  have  told 
them  why.  He  could  have  explained  to 
them  how  much  a  real  purpose,  an  object 
worth  struggling  for,  adds  to  the  enjoyment 
people  get  out  of  sport ;  but  Ed  usually 
kept  his  philosophy  to  himself  except  when 
there  was  a  need  for  it.  Just  now  there  was 
no  need.  The  boys  were  as  happy  as  pos- 
sible in  the  completion  of  their  task,  just  as 
they  had  been  as  happy  as  possible  in  per- 
forming it.  Satisfaction  is  better  than  an 
explanation  at  any  time,  and  Ed  Lowry 
knew  it. 

There  was  silence  for  a  considerable  time. 
Perhaps  all  the  boys  were  tired  after  their 
hard  day's  work.  Presently  Constant  Thie- 
baud  spoke. 

"  A  hundred  and  ninety  dollars  apiece  ! 
That's  more  money  than  any  of  us  ever  saw 


20    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

before.  I  say,  boys,  what  are  we  going  to 
do  with  it?" 

There  was  a  pause. 

"  Let  him  speak  first  who  can  speak  best," 
said  Irv  Strong.  "  So,  Ed  Lowry,  what  are 
you  going  to  do  with  your  share  of  the 
money  ? " 

"  I'm  going  shopping  with  it —  shopping 
for  some  c  bargain  counter '  health,"  replied 
the  tall  boy. 

"  How  do  you  mean  ?  "  asked  two  boys 
at  once,  and  eagerly. 

"  Well,  my  phthisic  was  very  bad  last 
winter,  you  know.  It  isn't  phthisic  at  all, 
I  think.  Phthisic  is  consumption,  and  I 
haven't  that  —  yet." 

He  spoke  hopefully,  rather  than  confi- 
dently. He  hoped  his  malady  might  not  be 
a  fatal  one,  but  sometimes  he  had  doubts. 

Let  me  say  here  that  his  hope  was  better 
founded  than  his  fear.  For  at  this  latter 
end  of  the  century,  Ed  Lowry  —  under  his 
own  proper  name  and  not  under  that  which 
I  am  hiding  him  behind  in  this  story  —  is 
not  only  living,  but  famous.  His  bodily 
strength  has  always  been  small,  but  the 
work  he  has  done  in  the  world  with  that  big 
brain  of  his  has  been   very  great,   and  his 


HOW   IT   ALL    BEGAN  21 

name — the  real  one  I  mean  —  is  familiar 
to  everybody  who  reads  books  or  cares  for 
American  history. 

"  But  whatever  it  is,"  Ed  continued,  "  the 
doctor  wants  me  to  go  South  for  this  winter, 
and  now  that  I've  got  money  enough,  I'm 
going  to  do  it." 

"But  you  haven't  got  money  enough," 
said  Irv  Strong.  "A  hundred  and  ninety 
dollars  won't  much  more  than  pay  your 
steamboat  fare  to  New  Orleans  and  back. 
What  are  you  going  to  live  on  down  there 
—  especially  if  you  get  sick  ?  " 

The  irrepressible  Phil  selected  this  as  the 
time  to  wake  up.  "  Well,"  he  said,  sitting 
up  in  the  sand  and  locking  his  muscular 
arms  around  his  knees,  "  Fm  in  this  game  a 
little  bit  myself.  I've  got  one  whole  hun- 
dred and  ninety  dollars'  worth  of  stake  in 
that  big  pile  of  iron  ;  and  from  Mrs.  Dupont 
down  to  the  last  one-suspendered  chap 
in  the  lot  of  you,  you  are  all  always 
talking  about  my  c  obstinate  pertinacity/ 
Well,  my  c  pertinacity '  just  now  c  obsti- 
nately ■  declares  that  Ed  shall  take  my  share 
in  the  stake  and  spend  it  for  his  health. 
He  shakes  his  head,  but  if  he  won't,  then 
I  c solemnly  swear  or  affirm'  that   I'll  take 


22    THE   LAST   OF   THE    FLATBOATS 

every  dollar  of  it  out  to  the  channel  there 
and  throw  it  in.     I'll  —  " 

But  Phil  had  broken  down.  His  affec- 
tion for  his  half-invalid  brother  was  the  one 
thing  that  nothing  could  ever  overcome. 
He  didn't  weep.  That  is  to  say,  none  of 
the  boys  saw  him  shed  tears,  but  instead 
of  finishing  the  sentence  he  was  uttering, 
he  suddenly  became  interested  in  the  pebbles 
along  the  river  shore,  fifty  yards  lower  down 
the  stream. 

Ed,  too,  found  it  difficult  just  then  to 
say  anything.  Ed  had  always  been  disposed 
to  worry  himself  about  Phil  —  to  regulate 
him,  and  when  he  couldn't  do  that,  to  suffer 
in  his  own  mind  and  conscience  for  his 
brother's  misdeeds  —  which,  after  all,  were 
usually  nothing  worse  than  manifestations 
of  excessive  boyish  enthusiasm,  the  undue 
use  of  slang,  and  an  excessive  devotion  to 
purposes  which  Ed's  calmer  temper  could 
not  quite  approve.  Just  now  Ed  had  made 
a  new  discovery.  He  had  found  out  some- 
thing of  the  rattling,  restless,  reckless  boy's 
character  which  he  had  never  fully  known 
before.  For  he  did  not  know,  as  the  other 
boys  did,  how  Phil,  a  year  ago,  had  waited 
for  half  an    hour  behind    the    schoolhouse, 


HOW   IT   ALL    BEGAN  23 

and  armed  with  stones  had  wreaked  a  fear- 
ful vengeance  upon  the  big  bully  twice  his 
size,  who  had  used  his  strength  cruelly  to 
torment  Ed's  weakness.  That  story  had 
been  kept  from  Ed,  because  it  was  well 
understood  that  he  did  not  approve  of 
fighting ;  and  the  boys,  who  fully  sympa- 
thized with  the  little  fellow's  animosity 
against  the  big  bully,  didn't  want  him  cen- 
sured for  his  battle  and  victory. 

So  there  was  silence  after  Phil's  declara- 
tion of  his  purpose,  which  every  boy  there 
knew  that  he  would  fulfil  to  the  letter.  At 
last  Ed  said  :  — 

"  On  my  own  share  of  the  money  I  could 
go  by  taking  deck  passage." 

"Yes,"  cried  Phil,  suddenly  reappearing 
in  a  sort  of  wrath  that  was  very  unusual 
with  him  —  "yes,  and  live  on  equal  terms 
with  a  lot  of  dirty,  low-lived  wretches  — 
ugh  !  Now  see  here,  Ed  !  I've  told  you 
you  are  to  take  my  share  of  the  money.  If 
you  don't,  I'll  do  exactly  what  I  said,  —  I'll 
get  it  changed  into  coin,  and  I'll  drop  it  into 
the  river  at  a  point  where  no  diving  will  ever 
get  it.     I've  said  my  say.     I'll  do  my  do." 

"  Look  here,"  drawled  Irv  Strong,  after 
a  moment.     "  Let's  all  go  to  New  Orleans, 


24    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

and  don't  let's  pay  any  steamboat  fare  at  all 
except  to  get  back  !  " 

"  But  how? "  asked  three  boys,  in  a  breath. 

"  Let's  run  a  flatboat !  In  my  father's 
day,  pretty  nearly  all  the  hay,  grain,  bacon, 
apples,  onions,  and  the  like,  grown  in  this 
part  of  the  country,  were  sent  to  New 
Orleans  in  flatboats.  I  don't  see  why  it 
wouldn't  pay  for  us  to  take  a  flatboat  down 
the  river  now.  We've  more  than  enough 
money  to  build  and  run  her,  and  we  can  get 
a  cargo,  I'll  bet  a  brass  button." 

The  boys  were  all  eagerness.  They  knew, 
of  course,  what  a  flatboat  was,  but  they  had 
seen  very  few  craft  of  that  sort,  as  the  old 
floating  flatboats  had  almost  entirely  given 
place  on  the  Ohio  to  barges,  towed,  or  rather 
pushed,  by  big,  stern-wheel  steamboats.  For 
the  benefit  of  readers  who  never  saw  any- 
thing of  the  kind,  let  me  explain. 

A  flatboat  was  simply  a  big,  overgrown, 
square-bowed  and  square-sterned  scow,  with 
a  box-like  house  built  on  top.  She  could 
carry  a  very  heavy  cargo  without  sinking 
below  her  gunwales,  and  the  house  on  top, 
with  its  roof  of  slightly  curved  boards,  was 
to  hold  the  cargo.  There  was  a  little  open 
space  at  the  bow  to  let  freight  in  and  out. 


HOW    IT   ALL    BEGAN  25 

while  a  part  of  the  deck-house  at  the  stern 
was  made  into  a  little  box-like  cabin  for  the 
crew.  The  scow  part,  or  boat  proper,  was 
strongly  built,  with  great  timber  gunwales, 
and  a  bottom  of  two-inch  plank  tightly 
caulked.  The  freight-house  built  on  it  was 
so  put  together  that  only  a  few  of  the 
planks  were  required  to  have  nails  in  them, 
so  that  when  the  boat  reached  New  Orleans 
she  could  be  sold  as  lumber  for  more  than 
she  had  originally  cost. 

She  was  simply  floated  down  the  river  by 
the  current.  There  were  two  big  oars,  or 
"  sweeps,"  as  they  were  called,  with  which  the 
men  by  rowing  could  give  the  craft  steerage 
way  —  that  is  to  say,  speed  enough  to  let  the 
big  steering  oar  throw  her  stern  around  as  a 
rudder  does,  and  guide  her  course.  All  this 
was  necessary  in  making  sharp  turns  in  the 
channel  to  keep  off  bars ;  but  as  the  flat- 
boats  usually  went  down  the  river  only  at 
high  stages  of  water,  the  chief  use  of  the 
oars  was  to  make  landings. 

Ed  could  have  told  his  comrades  some 
interesting  facts  concerning  the  enormous 
part  that  the  flatboats  once  played  in  that 
commerce  which  built  up  the  great  Western 
country ;  but,  as  Irv  Strong  said,  there  was 


26    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

"  already  a  question  before  the  house.  That 
question  is,  c  Why  can't  we  five  fellows  build 
a  flatboat,  load  her,  and  take  her  down  the 
river  ? '  We'll  be  the  c  hands  '  ourselves, 
and  won't  charge  ourselves  any  wages,  so  we 
can  certainly  carry  freight  cheaper  than  any 
steamboat  can.  We'll  earn  some  more 
money,  perhaps,  and  if  we  don't,  we'll  have 
lots  of  fun,  and  best  of  all,  we'll  '  bust  that 
broncho,'  or  bronchitis  of  Ed's  —  for  that's 
what  it  is.  They  call  it  phthisic  only  be- 
cause that's  the  very  hardest  word  in  the 
book  to  spell." 

The  sun  was  getting  low,  but  the  boys 
were  deeply  interested.  They  would  have 
determined  upon  the  project  then  and  there 
but  for  Ed's  caution.  As  it  was,  they  made 
him  a  sort  of  committee  of  one  to  inquire 
into  details,  to  find  out  what  it  would  cost 
to  build  a  flatboat,  what  living  expenses 
would  be  necessary  for  her  boy  crew,  what 
it  would  cost  them  for  passage  back  from 
New  Orleans,  and  on  what  terms  they  could 
get  a  cargo. 

This  is  how  it  all  began. 


CHAPTER   III 


CAPTAIN    PHIL 


Ed's  report  was  in  all  respects  favorable 
to  the  enterprise.  Perry  Raymond,  who 
in  the  old  days  had  built  many  scores  of 
flatboats,  was  now  too  old  to  undertake  an 
active  enterprise.  But  he  told  Ed,  to  the 
very  last  board,  how  much  lumber  would  be 
required,  and  the  price  of  every  stick  in  it. 
He  volunteered,  as  a  mere  matter  of  favor 
and  without  any  charge  whatever,  to  superin- 
tend and  direct  the  work  of  the  boys  in 
building  a  boat  for  themselves.  The  result 
was  that  they  could  build  a  boat  for  a  very 
small  fraction  of  their  money,  and  Perry 
promised  to  show  them  how  to  caulk  it  for 
themselves. 

Ed  had  seen  the  principal  merchants  of 
the  place,  also.  It  was  their  practice  to 
exchange  goods  for  country  produce  —  any 
sort  that  might  come  to  them,  whether  hay, 
or  onions,  or  garlic,  or  butter,  or  eggs,  or 
27 


28    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

wheat,  or  wool,  or  corn,  or  apples,  or  what 
not. 

It  was  their  business  to  know  pretty- 
accurately  how  much  of  each  kind  of  prod- 
uce they  were  likely  to  get  during  any 
given  season  in  return  for  their  goods,  and 
how  best  to  market  it.  They  knew  to  a 
nicety  how  much  butter  and  how  many 
eggs  or  how  many  bushels  of  onions  or  how 
many  pounds  of  hay  they  could  get  for  a 
parasol  or  a  bit  of  lace  or  a  calico  dress  or 
a  sack  of  coffee.  Their  chief  problem  was 
how  to  sell  all  these  things  to  the  best  advan- 
tage afterward.  Usually  they  found  their 
best  market  down  the  river. 

So  when  Ed  Lowry  presented  the  case 
to  them  they  were  quick  to  see  advantage 
in  it.  His  proposal  was  that  the  boys 
should  provide  the  flatboat  and  take  her 
to  New  Orleans  at  their  own  expense ;  that 
the  merchants  should  furnish  a  cargo  to  be 
sold  on  commission  either  at  New  Orleans 
or  on  "  the  coast,"  as  the  river  country  for 
a  few  hundred  miles  above  that  city  is 
called,  the  boys  to  have  a  certain  part  of 
the  money  as  freight  and  a  certain  other 
part  as  "  commission. " 

Every    merchant    in    town  was    ready    to 


CAPTAIN    PHIL  29 

furnish  a  part  of  the  cargo,  and  it  seemed 
altogether  probable  that  the  boys  would 
easily  secure  more  freight  than  they  could 
carry,  though  their  flatboat  was  to  be  one 
of  the  biggest  that  ever  floated  down  the 
river.  As  she  was  likely  also  to  be  one  of 
the  last,  coming  as  she  did  long  after  that 
system  of  river  transportation  had  been 
generally  abandoned,  Irv  Strong,  in  a  burst 
of  eloquence,  proposed  that  she  should  be 
called  The  Last  of  the  Flatboats,  in  order, 
he  said,  "  that  she  may  take  rank  with  those 
noble  literary  productions,  c  The  Last  of 
the  Barons/  c  The  Last  of  the  Mohicans/ 
c  The  Last  of  the  Mamelukes/  c  The  Last 
Days  of  Pompeii/  and  cThe  Lay  of  the 
Last  Minstrel/" 

Ed  Lowry  laughed,  and  the  other  boys 
voted  for  the  name  proposed. 

As  the  boat  was  nearing  completion,  a 
few  weeks  later,  and  indeed  had  already 
received  a  part  of  her  cargo,  the  question 
arose,  who  should  be  her  captain. 

The  first  impulse  of  everybody  concerned 
was  to  say  "  Ed  Lowry/'  but  Ed  vetoed 
that. 

"  I'm  an  invalid,"  he  said,  "  or  half  an 
invalid  at  the  best,  and  this  thing  isn't  play. 


3o    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

There  are  very  serious  duties  for  the  captain 
of  a  flatboat  to  do.  He  must  be  able  to 
expose  himself  in  all  weathers,  which  I  can't 
do.  He  must  be  ready  in  resource  and  very 
quick  to  decide.  In  an  emergency,  it  is  far 
more  important  to  have  a  quick  decision 
than  a  wise  one,  and  especially  to  have  the 
one  who  decides  a  resolute  person  who  will 
carry  his  decision  into  effect." 

"  I  see,"  said  Irving  Strong.  "  What  we 
need  in  a  captain  is  c  obstinate  pertinacity/ 
I  move  that  Phil  Lowry,  as  the  possessor  of 
a  large  and  varied  stock  of  that  commodity, 
be  made  captain  of  The  Last  of  the  Flatboats." 

As  Phil  was  the  very  youngest  of  the 
group,  and  as  he  had  always  been  regarded 
rather  as  a  ready  than  a  discreet  thinker, 
there  was  a  moment's  hesitation.  But  a 
little  thought  convinced  every  one  of  the 
boys  that  Phil  was  by  all  odds  the  one 
among  them  best  fit  to  undertake  the  diffi- 
cult task  of  command  —  the  one  most  likely 
to  bring  the  enterprise  to  a  successful  ter- 
mination, especially  if  any  serious  difficulties 
should  arise,  as  was  pretty  certain  to  happen. 

"  It's  an  awful  responsibility  for  Phil  to 
assume,"  said  Ed  that  night  to  their  widowed 
mother,  a  woman  of  unusual  wisdom. 


CAPTAIN    PHIL  31 

"  Yes,"  she  replied ;  "  but,  after  all,  he  is 
the  one  best  fit,  and  that  ought  to  be  the 
only  ground  on  which  men  or  boys  are 
selected  for  places  of  responsibility.  Besides, 
it  will  educate  Philip  in  much  that  he  needs 
to  learn.  No  matter  what  happens  on  the 
voyage,  he  will  come  back  the  better  for  it. 
He  ought  to  have  the  discipline  that  respon- 
sibility gives.  The  one  lesson  he  most 
needs  to  learn  is  that  he  is  not  merely  an 
individual,  but  a  part  of  a  whole :  that  his 
conduct  in  any  case  affects  others  as  well 
as  himself,  and  that  he  is,  therefore,  re- 
sponsible to  others  and  for  others.  It  is 
well  that  you  boys  have  made  him  your 
captain.  Now  remember  to  hold  up  his 
hands  and  obey  him  loyally  in  every  case  of 
doubt.  That  will  be  hard  for  you,  Edward, 
because  of  your  superior  knowledge  —  " 

"  No,  it  won't,  mother,  pardon  me,"  re- 
sponded Ed :  "  first,  because  I  know  too 
much  about  some  things  not  to  know  that 
other  people  know  more  than  I  do  about 
others ;  and  secondly,  because  I  thoroughly 
understand  what  Napoleon  meant  when  he 
said  that  c  one  bad  general  in  command  of 
an  army  is  better  than  two  good  ones.' 
The  most  unwise  order  promptly  executed 


32    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

usually  results  better  than  the  wisest  order 
left  open  to  debate.  Phil  will  never  leave 
things  open  to  debate  when  the  time  comes 
for  quick  action,  and  besides,  mother,  I  have 
a  much  better  opinion  of  Phil's  capacity  for 
command  than  you  think.  His  readiness 
and  resourcefulness  are  remarkable.  He 
may  or  he  may  not  get  us  safely  to  New 
Orleans.  But  if  he  doesn't,  I  shall  be  per- 
fectly certain  that  nobody  else  in  the  party 
could." 

So  it  was  that  Phil  Lowry,  the  youngest 
of  the  party,  and  the  most  harum-scarum 
boy  in  all  Vevay,  was  chosen  captain  of 
The  Last  of  the  Flatboats  by  those  who 
were  to  voyage  with  him,  simply  because 
they  all  believed  him  to  be  the  one  best  fit 
for  the  place. 


CHAPTER   IV 


A    HURRY    CALL 


Without  theorizing  about  it,  and,  indeed, 
without  knowing  the  fact,  Phil  began  at  once 
to  rise  to  his  responsibility.  The  success  of 
the  enterprise,  he  felt,  depended  in  a  large 
degree  upon  him,  and  he  must  think  of 
everything  necessary  in  advance. 

One  night,  late  in  September,  he  asked 
his  comrades  to  meet  him  "  on  business " 
in  Will  Moreraud's  room  over  a  store. 
When  they  were  all  gathered  around  the 
little  pine  table  with  a  smoky  lamp  on  it, 
Phil  drew  out  a  carefully  prepared  memo- 
randum and  laid  it  before  him.  Then  he 
began :  — 

"  As  you've  made  me  responsible  in  this 
business,  I've  been  studying  up  a  little. 
The  river's  going  to  rise  earlier  than  usual 
this  year,  and  in  two  weeks  at  most  there'll 
be  water  enough  to  get  the  boat  over  the 
falls  at  Louisville." 

»  33 


34 


THE    LAST   OF   THE    FLATBOATS 


"  How  do  you  know  that  ? "  broke  in 
Constant  Thiebaud,  incredulously. 

"  Because  there  has  already  been  a  smart 
rise  all  along,  as  you  know,  and  heavy  rains 
are  falling  in  the  West  Virginia  and  Pennsyl- 
vania mountains.  The  Allegheny  River  is 
bank  full ;  the  Monongahela  is  over  its 
banks ;  and  the  Muskingum  and  the  Big 
Kanawha  and  the  Little  Kanawha  are  all 
rising  fast.  There'll  be  lots  of  water  here 
almost  before  we  know  it." 

"  Whew  !  "  cried  Irving  Strong,  rising,  — 
for  he  could  never  sit  still  when  anything  in- 
teresting was  under  discussion,  —  "but  how 
in  the  name  of  all  the  'ologies  do  you  know 
what's  going  on  in  the  Virginia  mountains, 
and  the  rivers,  and  all  that  ? " 

"  I've  been  reading  the  Cincinnati  papers 
every  day  since  you  made  me  c  It  ' ;  that's 
all.     Mr.  Schenck  lends  them  to  me." 

"  Well,  Gee  Whillicks  !  "  exclaimed  Con- 
stant, "  who'd  'a'  thought  of  that !  " 

"  No  matter,"  said  Phil,  a  little  abashed 
by  the  approbation  of  his  foresight  which  he 
saw  in  all  the  boys'  eyes  and  heard  in  all 
their  voices.  "  No  matter  about  that ;  but 
I've  more  to  say.  The  sooner  we  can  get 
away  with  the  flatboat,  the  better." 


A    HURRY   CALL  35 

"  Why  ?     What  difference  does  it  make?" 

"  Well,  for  most  of  the  things  we  are  tak- 
ing as  freight  the  prices  are  apt  to  be  much 
higher  in  the  fall  than  later,  after  the  steam- 
boats load  up  the  market.  That's  what  Mr. 
Shaw  says,  and  he  knows.  So  we  must  get 
the  boat  loaded  just  as  quickly  as  we  can, 
and  go  out  as  soon  as  there  is  water  enough 
to  get  her  over  the  falls." 

"  But  we  can't  do  that,"  said  Ed,  "  be- 
cause most  of  the  produce  we  are  to  take 
hasn't  been  brought  to  town  yet.  The  hay 
is  here,  of  course,  but  apples  have  hardly 
begun  to  come  in  —  " 

"  That's  just  what  I'm  coming  to,"  inter- 
rupted Phil.  "  I've  been  studying  all  that. 
We  could  get  enough  freight  for  two  cargoes 
by  waiting  for  it,  but  the  best  figuring  I  can 
do  shows  only  about  three-quarters  of  a  load 
now  actually  in  town.  I  propose  that  we  go 
to  work  to-morrow  and  get  the  other  quarter. 
That's  what  I  called  you  together  for." 

"  Where  are  we  to  get  it  ?  " 

"  Along  the  river,  below  town  —  in  the 
neighborhood  of  Craig's  Landing." 

"  But  how  ?  "  asked  Ed. 

"  By  hustling.  I've  made  out  a  list  of 
everybody  that  produces    anything  for   ten 


36    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

miles  down  the  river  and  five  miles  back 
into  the  hills,  —  Mr.  Larcom,  Captain  John 
Wright,  Johnny  Lampson,  Mr.  Albritton, 
Gersham  McCallum  and  his  brother  Neil, 
Algy  Wright,  Mr.  Minnit,  Dr.  Caine,  Mr. 
Violet  —  and  so  on.  Craig's  Landing  is  the 
nearest  there  is  to  all  of  them,  and  they  can 
all  get  their  produce  there  quickly.  I  pro- 
pose that  every  boy  in  the  crew  take  his  foot 
in  his  hand  early  to-morrow  morning,  and 
that  we  visit  every  farmer  in  the  list  and  per- 
suade him  to  send  his  stuff  to  the  landing  at 
once.  I've  already  seen  Captain  Wright, — 
saw  him  in  town  to-day,  —  and  he  promises 
me  thirty  barrels  of  apples  and  seventy  bush- 
els of  onions  with  some  other  things.  I'll 
go  myself  to  Johnny  Lampson.  He  has  at 
least  a  hundred  barrels  of  apples,  and  I'll  get 
them.  They  aren't  picked  yet,  but  I'll  offer 
him  our  services  to  pick  them  immediately 
for  low  wages,  and  so  —  " 

"  I  say,  boys  ! "  broke  in  Irv  Strong,  "  I 
move  three  cheers  for  c  obstinate  pertina- 
city.' It's  the  thing  that c  goes  '  in  this  sort 
of  business." 

"And  in  most  others,"  quietly  rejoined 
Ed  Lowry.  "  I'm  afraid  I've  never  prop- 
erly appreciated  it  till  now." 


A    HURRY   CALL  37 

Phil  had  some  other  details  to  suggest,  for 
he  had  been  trying  very  earnestly  to  think 
of  everything  needful. 

They  would  need  some  skiffs,  and  he 
reported  that  Perry  Raymond  had  six  new 
ones,  of  his  own  building,  which  he  proposed 
to  let  them  have  as  a  part  of  the  cargo. 
They  were  to  use  any  of  them  as  needed  on 
the  voyage,  and  their  use  was  to  offset  freight 
charges.  They  were  to  sell  the  skiffs  at 
New  Orleans  or  above,  and  to  have  a  part 
of  the  proceeds  as  commission. 

"  I  move  we  accept  the  offer,"  said  Will 
Moreraud.     "  It's  a  good  one." 

"  It  is  already  accepted,"  replied  the 
young  captain  a  trifle  sharply,  (€I  closed 
the  bargain  at  once." 

His  tone  was  not  arrogant,  but  it  was 
authoritative.  It  was  a  new  one  for  him 
to  take,  and  it  rather  surprised  the  boys, 
but  on  the  whole  it  did  not  displease  them. 
It  meant  that  their  young  captain  intended 
to  be  something  more  effective  than  the 
chairman  of  a  debating  club ;  that  having 
been  asked  to  assume  authority,  he  purposed 
to  exercise  it;  that  being  in  command,  he 
meant  to  command  in  fact  as  well  as  in 
name. 


38    THE   LAST   OF   THE    FLATBOATS 

Some  of  them  talked  the  matter  over 
later  that  evening,  and  though  they  felt  a 
trifle  resentful  at  first,  they  finally  concluded 
that  the  boy's  new  attitude  promised  well 
for  the  enterprise,  and,  better  still,  that  it 
was  right. 

"  You  see  he  isn't  f  cocky '  about  it  at 
all,"  said  Will  Moreraud;  "it  just  means 
that  in  this  game  he's  c  It,'  and  he's  going 
to  give   the  word." 

"  It  means  a  good  deal  more  than  that," 
said  shrewd  Irv  Strong,  who  had  been  born 
the  son  of  an  officer  in  a  regular  army  post. 
"  It  means  we've  picked  out  the  right  fellow 
to  be  our  c  It,'  and  I,  for  one,  stand  ready 
to  support  him  with  my  eyes  shut,  every 
time  ! " 

"  So  do  I,"  cried  out  all  the  lads  in 
chorus.  "  Only  you  see,  "  said  Constant, 
"we  didn't  quite  expect  it  from  Phil. 
Well  —  maybe  if  we  had,  we'd  have  voted 
still  louder  for  him  for  captain ;  that  is,  if 
we've  got  any  real  sense." 

"  It  means,"  said  Ed,  gravely,  "  that  if  we 
fail  to  get  The  Last  of  the  Flatboats  safely  to 
New  Orleans,  it  will  be  our  own  fault,  not 
his." 

"That's  so,"  said  Irving  Strong.     "But 


A    HURRY    CALL  39 

who'd  ever  have  expected  that  rattlepate  to 
think  out  everything  as  he  has  done  ?  " 

"And  to  be  so  desperately  in  earnest 
about  it,   too ! "  said  another. 

"  Well,  I  don't  know,"  responded  Irving. 
"  You  remember  how  he  stuck  to  that  cis- 
tern sum.  It's  his  way,  only  he's  never 
before  had  so  serious  a  matter  as  this  to 
deal  with,  and  I  imagine  we  have  never 
quite  known  what  stuff  he's  made  of." 

"Anyhow,"  said  Will,  "  we're  chis  to  com- 
mand,' and  we'll  see  him  through." 

With  a  shout  of  applause  for  this  senti- 
ment the  boys  separated  for  sleep. 


CHAPTER    V 

ON    THE    BANKS    OF    THE    WONDERFUL    RIVER 

It  was  a  busy  fortnight  that  followed. 
The  boys  visited  every  farmer  within  six 
miles  of  the  landing  to  secure  whatever 
freight  he  might  be  willing  to  furnish. 
They  picked  and  barrelled  all  of  Lampson's 
apples,  dug  and  bagged  and  barrelled  all  the 
potatoes  in  that  neighborhood,  and  got 
together  many  small  lots  of  onions,  garlic, 
dried  beans,  and  the  like,  including  about 
ten  barrels  of  eggs.  These  last  they  col- 
lected in  baskets,  a  few  dozen  from  each 
farm,  and  packed  them  at  the  landing.  Of 
course  every  shipper's  freight  had  to  be 
separately  marked  and  receipted  for,  so  that 
the  proper  returns  might  be  made. 

During  all  this  time  the  boys  had  lived 
in  a  camp  of  their  own  making  at  the  land- 
ing,* partly  to  guard  the  freight  against 
thieves,  partly  to  get  used  to  cooking,  etc., 
for  themselves,  partly  to  learn  to  "  rough  it," 
generally,  and  more  than  all  because,  being 
40 


THE   WONDERFUL    RIVER         41 

healthy-minded  boys,  they  liked  camping 
for  its  own  sake. 

Their  little  shelter  was  on  the  shore, 
just  under  the  bank.  They  occupied  it 
only  during  rains.  At  other  times  they 
lived  night  and  day  in  the  open  air.  They 
worked  all  day,  of  course,  leaving  one  of 
their  number  on  guard,  but  when  night 
came,  they  had  what  Homer  calls  a  "great 
bearded  fire,"  built  against  a  fallen  syca- 
more tree  of  gigantic  size,  and  after  supper 
they  sat  by  it  chatting  till  it  was  time  to 
sleep. 

They  were  usually  tired,  but  they  were 
excited  also,  and  that  often  kept  them  awake 
pretty  late.  The  vision  of  the  voyage  had 
taken  hold  upon  their  imaginations.  They 
pictured  to  themselves  the  calm  joy  of 
floating  fifteen  hundred  miles  and  more 
down  the  great  river,  of  seeing  strange,  sub- 
tropical regions  that  had  hitherto  been  but 
names  to  them,  seeming  as  remote  as  the 
Nile  country  itself  until  now. 

And  as  they  thought,  they  talked,  but 
mainly  their  talk  consisted  of  questions  fired 
at  Ed  Lowry,  who  was  very  justly  suspected 
of  knowing  about  ten  times  as  much  about 
most  things  as  anybody  else  in  the  company. 


42    THE   LAST   OF   THE    FLATBOATS 

Finally,  one  night  Irv  Strong  got  to  "  sup- 
posing" things  and  asking  Ed  about  them. 

"  Suppose  we  run  on  a  sawyer,"  he  said. 
Ed  had  been  telling  them  about  that  particu- 
larly dangerous  sort  of  snag. 

"Well,"  said  Ed,  "we'll  try  to  avoid  that, 
by  keeping  as  nearly  as  we  can  in  the 
channel." 

"  But  suppose  we  find  that  a  particularly 
malignant  sawyer  has  squatted  dawn  in  the 
middle  of  the  channel,  and  is  laying  for  us 
there  ? " 

"  I  doubt  if  sawyers  often  do  that,"  said 
Ed,  meditatively. 

"  Well,  but  suppose  one  cantankerous  old 
sawyer  should  do  so,"  insisted  Irv.  "You 
can  c  suppose  a  case  '  and  make  a  sawyer  any- 
where you  please,  can't  you  ?  " 

Everybody  laughed.  Then  Ed  said : 
"Now  listen  to  me,  boys.  I've  been  get- 
ting together  all  the  books  I  can  borrow  that 
tell  anything  about  the  country  we're  going 
through,  and  I'll  have  them  all  on  board. 
My  plan  is  to  lie  on  my  back  in  the  shade 
somewhere  and  read  them  while  you  fellows 
pull  at  the  oars,  cook  the  meals,  and  do  the 
work  generally.  Then,  when  you  happen 
to  have  a  little  leisure,  as  you  will  now  and 


THE   WONDERFUL   RIVER        43 

then,  I'll  tell  you  what  I've  learned  by  my 
reading." 

"  Oh,  that's  your  plan,  is  it  ? "  asked 
Phil. 

"Yes,  I've  thought  it  all  out  carefully/' 
laughed  Ed. 

"  Well,  you'll  find  out  before  we  get  far 
down  the  river  what  the  duties  of  a  flatboat 
hand  are,  and  you'll  do  'em,  too,  'accordin'  to 
the  measure  of  your  strength,'  as  old  Mr. 
Moon  always  says  in  experience  meeting." 

"  But  reading  and  telling  us  about  it  is 
what  Ed  can  do  best,"said  Will  Moreraud, 
"and  that's  what  we're  taking  him  along 
for." 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it,"  quickly  responded  Phil. 
"  We're  taking  him  along  to  make  him  well 
and  strong  like  the  rest  of  us,  and  I'm  going 
to  keep  him  off  his  back  and  on  his  feet  as 
much  as  possible,  and  besides  —  " 

"But,  Phil,  old  fellow,"  Ed  broke  in, 
"didn't  you  understand  that  I  was  only 
joking?" 

Ed  asked  the  question  with  a  tender  solici- 
tude to  which  Phil  responded  promptly. 

"  Of  course  I  did,"  he  replied,  "  You 
always  do  your  share  in  everything,  and 
sometimes  more.      But  I    don't  think  you 


44    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

understand.  You  know  we  started  this 
thing  for  you.  I  don't  know  —  maybe  you'll 
never  get  well  if  we  don't  do  our  best  to 
make  you  — "  but  Phil  had  choked  up  by 
this  time,  and  he  broke  away  from  the  group 
and  went  down  by  the  river.  A  little  later 
Ed  joined  him  there  and,  grasping  his  hand, 
said  :  — 

"  I  understand,  old  fellow." 

"No,  you  don't;  at  least  not  quite,"  re- 
plied the  boy,  who  had  now  recovered  con- 
trol of  his  voice.  "You  see  it's  this  way. 
You  and  I  are  twins.  You're  some  years 
older  than  I  am,  of  course,  but  we've  always 
been  twins  just  the  same." 

"  Yes,  I  understand  all  that,  and  feel  it." 

"  No,  not  all,"  persisted  the  younger  boy. 
"You  see  I've  got  all  the  health  there  is 
between  us,  and  it  isn't  fair.  If  you  should — 
well,  if  anything  should  happen  to  you,  I'd 
never  forgive  myself  for  not  finding  out 
some  way  of  dividing  health  with  you  —  " 

"  But,  my  dear  brother — "  broke  in  Ed. 

"Don't  interrupt  me,  now,"  said  Phil, 
almost  hysterically,  "because  I  must  tell  you 
this  so  that  you  will  understand.  When  we 
made  up  this  scheme  and  you  fellows  chose 
me  captain,  I    got    to    thinking  how  much 


THE   WONDERFUL    RIVER         45 

depended  on  me.  There  was  the  cargo, 
representing  other  people's  money,  and  I 
was  responsible  for  that.  There  was  the 
safety  of  the  boat  and  crew,  and  that  de- 
pended upon  me,  too.  But  these  weren't 
the  heavy  things  to  me.  There  was  your 
health  !  That  depended  on  me  in  a  fearful 
way.  I  felt  that  I  must  find  out  what  was 
best  for  you  to  do  and  then  make  you  do 
it."  He  laughed  a  little.  "That  sounds 
funny,  doesn't  it?  The  idea  of  my  c  mak- 
ing '  you  do  things  !  —  Never  mind  that.  I 
went  to  Dr.  Gale  —  " 

"  What  for  ?  "  asked  Ed,  in  astonishment 
at  this  new  revelation  of  the  change  in  Phil's 
happy-go-lucky  ways. 

"To  find  out  just  what  it  would  be  best 
for  you  to  do  and  not  to  do,  in  order  to 
make  you  we-11  and  strong  like  me."  He 
choked  a  little,  but  presently  recovered  him- 
self and  continued.  "  I  found  out,  and  I 
mean  to  make  you  do  the  things  that  will 
save  you,. even  if  you  hate  me  for  my  —  " 

He  could  say  no  more.  There  was  no 
need.  Ed,  with  his  ready  mind  and  big, 
generous  heart,  understood,  though  he  won- 
dered. He  grasped  his  brother's  hand  again 
and  said,  between  something  like  sobs  :  — 


46    THE    LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

"And  I'll  obey  you,  Phil!  Thank  you, 
and  God  bless  you  !  Be  sure  I  could  never 
hate  you  or  do  anything  but  love  you,  and 
you  must  always  know  that  I  understand." 

Then  the  two  turned  away  from  each 
other. 

On  their  return  to  Vevay  a  few  evenings 
later,  Ed  said  to  his  mother :  — 

"  You  were  right,  mother ;  responsibility 
has  already  worked  a  miracle  in  Phil's  char- 
acter/' 

"  No,  you  are  wrong,"  said  the  wise 
mother.  "It  is  only  that  you  have  never 
quite  understood  your  brother  until  now. 
Nothing  really  changes  character  —  at  least 
nothing  changes  it  suddenly.  Circumstances 
do  not  alter  the  character  of  men  or  women 
or  boys.  They  only  call  out  what  is  already 
there.  Responsibility  and  his  great  affec- 
tion for  you  have  not  changed  your  brother 
in  the  least.  They  have  only  served  to 
make  you  acquainted  with  him  as  you  never 
were  before." 

"  Be  very  sure  I  shall  never  misunder- 
stand him  again  ! "  said  the  boy,  with  an 
earnestness  not  to  be  mistaken. 


LOADING   THE    FLATBOAT. 
"They  worked  like  beavers  getting  cargo  aboard." 


CHAPTER  VI 


THE    PILOT 


The  boys  went  hurriedly  back  to  Vevay. 
They  had  cargo  enough  and  to  spare.  In- 
deed, they  feared  they  might  have  difficulty 
in  bestowing  it  all  on  their  boat.  And  the 
rise  in  the  river  was  coming  even  earlier  and 
faster  than  Phil  had  calculated.  They  must 
get  the  Vevay  part  of  their  load  on  board 
and  drop  down  to  Craig's  Landing  before  the 
water  should  reach  their  freight  there,  which 
lay  near  the  river.  So  they  hired  a  farm 
hand  to  watch  the  goods  at  the  landing  and 
hastened  to  town. 

There  they  worked  like  beavers,  getting 
cargo  aboard,  for  it  was  no  part  of  their  plan 
to  waste  money  hiring  anybody  to  do  for 
them  anything  that  they  could  do  for  them- 
selves. They  loaded  the  boat  under  Perry 
Raymond's  supervision,  for  even  the  tight- 
est and  stiffest  boat  can  be  made  to  leak  like 
a  sieve  if  badly  loaded. 

47 


48    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

Finally,  everything  was  ready.  The  town 
part  of  the  cargo  was  well  bestowed.  Ed 
Lowry  had  deposited  his  books  on  top  of 
tiers  of  hay  bales,  in  between  barrels,  and  in 
every  other  available  space,  for  there  was  no 
room  for  them  in  the  little  cabin  at  the  stern, 
where  the  boys  must  cook,  eat,  sleep,  and 
live.  The  cabin  wasn't  over  twelve  feet  by 
ten  in  dimensions,  and  a  large  part  of  its 
space  was  taken  up  by  the  six  sleeping- 
bunks.  For  besides  themselves  there  was 
a  pilot  to  be  provided  for. 

His  name  was  Jim  Hughes.  Beyond 
that  nobody  knew  anything  about  him.  He 
had  come  to  Vevay,  from  nowhere  in  par- 
ticular, only  a  few  days  before  the  flatboat's 
departure,  and  asked  to  be  taken  as  pilot. 
He  was  willing  to  go  in  that  capacity  with- 
out wages.  He  wanted  "  to  get  down  the 
river,"  he  said,  and  professed  to  know  the 
channels  fairly  well. 

"  If  he  does,"  said  Ed  Lowry,  "he  knows 
a  good  deal  more  than  most  of  the  old-time 
flatboat  pilots  did.  With  the  maps  I've 
secured  I  think  we  can  float  the  boat  down 
the  river  without  much  need  of  a  pilot  any- 
how. But  as  Hughes  offers  to  go  for  his 
passage,  we  might  as  well  take  him  along. 


THE   PILOT  49 


We  may  get  into  a  situation  where  his 
knowledge  of  the  river,  if  he  has  any,  will  be 
of  use  to  us." 

So  Jim  Hughes  was  shipped  as  pilot  of 
The  Last  of  the  Flatboats. 

When  all  was  ready  that  gallant  craft  was 
cast  loose  at  the  Ferry  street  landing,  and  as 
she  drifted  into  the  strong  current,  there  was 
a  cheer  from  the  boys  on  shore  who  had 
assembled  to  see  their  schoolmates  off. 

"  She  floats  upon  the  bosom  of  the 
waters,"  cried  Irv  Strong,  "  with  all  the 
grace  of  a  cow  learning  to  dance  the  horn- 
pipe." 

Irv  was  in  exuberant  spirits,  as  he  always 
was  in  fact.  He  was  like  soda  water  with 
all  its  fizz  in  it,  no  matter  what  the  circum- 
stances might  be,  and  just  now  the  circum- 
stances were  altogether  favorable. 

"  I  say,  boys,"  he  cried,  "  let's  have  a 
little  dance  on  deck  !  Tune  up  your  fiddle, 
Constant." 

Constant  dived  into  the  cabin  and  quickly 
returned  with  his  violin,  playing  a  jig  even 
as  he  emerged  from  the  little  trap-door  at 
the  top  of  the  steps. 

Phil  did  not  join  in  the  dance,  for  he  had 
discovered  a  cause  of  anxiety.     Their  pilot 


5o    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

was  making  a  great  show  of  activity  where 
none  whatever  was  needed.  From  the  Ferry 
street  landing  to  "  The  Point "  the  current 
ran  swiftly  in  a  straight  line,  and  if  let  alone, 
the  boat  would  have  gone  in  precisely  the 
right  direction.  But  Hughes  was  not  letting 
her  alone.  With  long  sweeps  of  his  great 
steering-oar  he  was  driving  her  out  danger- 
ously near  the  head  of  the  bar,  now  under 
water  but  still  a  .shoal. 

Phil,  who  was  observing  closely,  called 
out :  — 

"  I  say,  Jim,  you  must  run  further  inshore, 
or  you'll  hit  the  head  of  the  bar." 

"  Lem  me  alone,"  said  Jim.  "  I  know 
the  river." 

Just  then  the  boat  scraped  bottom  on  the 
bar.     Phil  called  out  quickly  :  — 

"  All  hands  to  the  larboard  oars  !  Give  it 
to  her  hard  ! "  and  himself  seizing  the  steer- 
ing oar,  he  managed  by  a  hair's  breadth  to 
swing  the  great  box  —  for  that  is  all  that  a 
flatboat  is  —  into  the  deep  and  rapid  chan- 
nel near  the  Indiana  shore. 

As  she  drifted  into  safe  water,  Phil 
said :  — 

"That's  incident  number  one  in  the 
voyage." 


THE   PILOT  51 


"  Yes,  and  it  came  pretty  near  being  chap- 
ter first  and  last  in  the  log-book  of  The 
Last  of  the  Flatboats"  replied   Irv  Strong. 

For  several  miles  now  there  was  nothing 
to  do  but  float.  But  Phil  was  closely  watch- 
ing Jim  Hughes  and  observed  that  that 
worthy  made  three  visits  to  the  hold,  —  as 
the  cargo  part  of  the  boat  is  called,  —  going 
down  each  time  by  the  forward  ladder  and 
not  by  the  stairs  leading  to  the  cabin. 

When  the  boat  reached  the  big  eddy  about 
half  a  mile  above  Craig's  Landing,  it  was 
necessary  for  all  hands  to  go  to  the  oars 
again  in  order  to  make  the  landing. 

Presently  Phil  observed  that  Hughes  was 
steering  wildly.  His  efforts  with  the  steer- 
ing oar  were  throwing  the  boat  far  out  into 
the  river,  away  from  the  shore  on  which 
they  were  to  land,  and  directly  toward  the 
head  of  a  strong  channel  which  at  this  stage 
of  water  ran  like  a  mill-race  along  the  Ken- 
tucky shore  on  the  farther  side  of  Craig's 
bar.  Should  the  boat  be  sucked  into  that 
channel,  she  would  be  carried  many  miles 
down  the  stream  before  she  could  ever  be 
landed  even  on  the  wrong  aide  of  the  river, 
and  she  could  never  come  back  to  Craig's 
Landing  unless  towed  back  by  a  steamboat. 


52    THE    LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

Phil,  seeing  the  danger,  asked :  "  Why 
don't  you  keep  her  inshore  ?  " 

"  None  o'  yer  business.  I'm  steerm'," 
answered  the  pilot. 

One  quick,  searching  glance  showed  Phil 
the  extent  of  the  man's  drunkenness,  —  or 
his  pretence  of  drunkenness,  —  for  Phil  had 
doubts  of  it.  There  were  certain  indications 
lacking.  Yet  if  the  fellow  was  shamming, 
he  was  doing  it  exceedingly  well.  His 
tongue  seemed  thick,  his  eyes  glazed,  and 
his  walk  across  the  deck  appeared  to  be  a 
mere  stagger,  supported  by  the  great  oar 
that  he  was  wielding  to  such  mischievous 
effect. 

There  was  not  a  moment  to  be  lost  if  the 
landing  was  to  be  made  at  all.  Phil  called 
all  the  boys  to  the  larboard  sweep  and  went 
to  take  possession  of  the  steering-oar0  Jim 
Hughes  resisted  violently.  Phil,  with  a 
quietude  that  nobody  had  ever  before  seen 
him  display  under  strong  excitement,  picked 
up  a  bit  of  board  from  the  deck,  and  in- 
stantly knocked  the  big  hulking  fellow  down 
by  a  blow  on  the  head. 

The  man  did  not  get  up  again  or  indeed 
manifest  consciousness  in  any  way.  If  this 
troubled  the  boy,  as  of  course  it  must,  he  at 


THE   PILOT  53 


least  did  not  let  it  interfere  with  his  duty. 
He  had  a  difficult  task  to  do  and  he  must 
do  it  quickly.  He  gave  his  whole  mind  to 
that.  The  boys  obeyed  with  a  will  his 
shouted  orders  to  "  pull  hard ! "  then  for 
two  of  them  to  go  to  the  starboard  oar  and 
"  back  like  killing  snakes."  In  a  little  while 
the  boat  swung  round,  and  Phil  called  to 
Will  Moreraud  to  "  take  a  line  ashore  in  the 
skiff  and  make  it  fast."  The  youth  did  so, 
just  in  time  to  prevent  the  boat  from  ground- 
ing in  the  shoal  water  below  the  landing. 

When  everything  was  secure  and  the 
strenuous  work  done,  the  boy  sank  down 
upon  the  deck  and  called  to  his  brother. 

"  See  if  I've  killed  him,  won't  you,  Ed  ? 
J  can't." 

A  very  slight  examination  showed  that, 
while  the  blow  from  the  bit  of  plank  had 
brought  some  blood  from  the  pilot's  head, 
it  had  done  no  serious  damage.  His  stupor, 
it  was  Ed's  opinion,  was  due  to  whiskey,  not 
to  his  chastisement, 

Nevertheless  it  was  a  very  bad  beginning 
to  the  voyage,  and  Phil  was  strongly  dis- 
posed to  discharge  the  fellow  then  and  there, 
and  trust,  as  he  put  it,  to  "a  good  map, 
open  eyes,  and  ordinary  common  sense,  as 


54    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

better  pilots  than  a  drunken  lout  who  prob- 
ably doesn't  know  the  river  even  when  he 
is  sober." 

But  the  other  boys  dissuaded  him.  They 
thought  that  Jim's  intoxication  was  the 
result  of  his  joy  at  getting  off;  that  they 
could  find  his  jug  in  its  hiding-place  and 
throw  it  overboard,  —  which  presently  they 
did,  —  and  that  after  he  should  get  sober, 
Jim's  experience  in  flat-boating  might  be  of 
great  advantage  to  them. 

"  You  see,"  said  Ed  Lowry,  "  we've  taken 
a  big  responsibility.  All  this  freight,  worth 
thousands  of  dollars,  belongs  to  other  peo- 
ple, and  I  suppose  half  of  it  isn't  even 
insured  because  the  rates  on  flatboats  are  so 
high.  Think  if  we  should  lose  it  for  lack 
of  a  pilot !  " 

"  Yes,  think  of  that ! "  said  two  or  three 
in  a  breath. 

"Very  well,"  said  Phil.  "I  yield  to 
your  judgment.  But  my  own  opinion  is 
that  such  a  pilot  is  worse  than  none.  I'll 
keep  him  for  the  present.  But  I'll  watch 
him,  and  if  he  gets  any  more  whiskey  or 
plays  us  any  more  tricks,  I'll  set  him  ashore 
once  for  all  if  it's  in  the  middle  of  an  Arkan- 
sas swamp." 


THE   PILOT  55 


The  river  was  rising  now,  more  and  more 
rapidly  every  hour.  There  was  three  days' 
work  to  do  getting  the  rest  of  the  cargo 
aboard  and  making  room  for  it  in  the 
crowded  hold.  But  at  Ed  Lowry's  sugges- 
tion the  boys  avoided  overtaxing  themselves. 
The  energetic  Swiss  blood  in  the  veins  of 
Constant  Thiebaud  and  Will  Moreraud 
prompted  them  to  favor  long  hours  for 
work  on  the  plea  that  they  could  make  it 
up  by  rest  while  floating  down  the  river. 

But  under  Ed's  advice  Phil  overruled 
them,  and  it  was  decided  to  breakfast  at  six 
o'clock,  work  from  seven  to  twelve,  dine, 
rest  for  an  hour,  and  work  again  till  five. 


CHAPTER  VII 

TALKING 

The  pleasantest  part  of  the  day,  under 
this  arrangement,  was  that  between  five 
o'clock  and  bedtime. 

The  boys  talked  then,  and  talking  is 
about  the  very  best  thing  that  anybody  ever 
does.  It  is  by  talk  that  we  come  to  know 
those  about  us  and  make  ourselves  known 
to  them.  It  is  by  talk  that  we  learn  to  like 
our  fellows,  by  learning  what  there  is  in 
them  worth  liking.  And  it  is  by  talk  mainly 
that  we  find  out  what  we  think  and  correct 
our  thinking. 

Ed  Lowry  was  reading  a  book  one  day, 
when  suddenly  he  looked  up  and  said :  — 

"  I  say,  fellows,  this  is  good.  Lord  Ma- 
caulay  said  he  never  knew  what  he  thought 
about  any  subject  until  he  had  talked  about 
it.  Of  course  that's  so  with  all  of  us,  when 
you  come  to  think  of  it." 

"Well,  I  don't  know,"  said  Phil.  "I 
often  talk  about  things  and  don't  know  what 
S6 


TALKING  57 


I  think  about  'em  even  after  I've  talked. 
Here's  this  big  bond  robbery,  for  example. 
I've  read  all  about  it  in  the  Cincinnati  news- 
papers and  I've  talked  you  fellows  deaf, 
dumb,  and  blind  concerning  it.  Yet,  I  don't 
know  even  now  what  I  think  about  it." 

"  I  know  what  I  think,"  said  Will  More- 
raud.     "  I  think  the  detectives  are  c  all  off.9  " 

"  How  ? "  asked  all  the  boys  in  chorus. 

"  Well,  they're  trying  to  find  the  man 
who  is  supposed  to  be  carrying  the  plunder. 
It  seems  to  me  they'd  better  look  for  the 
other  fellows  first ;  for  if  they  were  caught, 
they'd  soon  enough  tell  where  the  man  that 
carries  it  is.  They  wouldn't  go  to  jail  and 
leave  him  with  the  stuff." 

"The  worst  of  it  is  they're  publishing 
descriptions  of  the  fellow  and  even  of  what 
they've  noticed  concerning  his  clothes  and 
beard,  as  if  a  thief  that  was  up  to  a  game 
like  that  wouldn't  change  his  clothes  and 
part  his  hair  differently  and  wear  a  different 
sort  of  beard,  especially  after  he's  been  told 
what  they're  looking  for." 

"  Yes,  that's  so,"  said  Irving  Strong,  read- 
ing from  one  of  Phil's  Cincinnati  newspapers: 

"'Red  hair'  —  a  man  might  dye  that  — 
'  parted  on  the  left  side  and  brushed   for- 


58    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

ward '  —  he  might  part  it  in  the  middle  and 
brush  it  back,  or  have  it  all  cut  off  with  one 
of  those  mowing  machines  the  barbers  use, 
just  as  Jim  Hughes  does  with  his  — " 

"  Now  I  come  to  think  of  it,"  continued 
Irv,  after  a  moment's  thought,  "Jim  an- 
swers the  description  in  several  ways,  — limps 
a  little  with  his  left  leg,  has  red  hair  when  he 
permits  himself  to  have  any  hair  at  all,  has 
lost  a  front  tooth,  and  speaks  with  a  slight 
lisp." 

"  Oh,  Jim  Hughes  isn't  a  bank  burglar," 
exclaimed  Will  Moreraud.  "  He  hasn't 
sense  enough  for  anything  of  that  sort." 

"  Of  course  not,"  said  Irv.  "  I  didn't 
mean  to  suggest  anything  of  the  kind.  I 
merely  cited  his  peculiarities  to  show  how 
easily  a  detective's  description  might  lead 
men  into  mistakes.  Why,  Jim  might  even 
be  arrested  on  that  description." 

"  But  all  that  isn't  what  Macaulay  meant," 
said  Ed.  "  He  meant  that  a  man  never 
really  knows  what  he  thinks  about  any  sub- 
ject till  he  has  put  his  thought  into  words 
and  then  turned  it  over  and  looked  at  it  and 
found  out  exactly  what  it  is." 

"  I  guess  that's  so,"  drawled  Irv.  "  I  no- 
tice that  whenever  I  try  to  think  seriously — " 


TALKING  59 


The  boys  all  laughed.  The  idea  of  Irv 
Strong's  thinking  seriously  seemed  peculiarly 
humorous  to  them. 

"  Well,  I  do  try  sometimes,"  said  Irv, 
"  and  whenever  I  do,  I  put  the  whole  thing 
into  the  exactest  words  I  can  find.  Very 
often,  when  I  get  it  into  exact  words,  I  find 
that  my  opinions  won't  hang  together  and 
I've  got  to  reconstruct  them." 

"  Exactly !  "  said  Ed  Lowry.  "  And  that 
is  the  great  difficulty  animals  have  in  trying 
to  think.  They  haven't  any  words  even  in 
their  minds.  They  can't  put  their  thoughts 
into  form  so  as  to  examine  them.  It  seems 
to  me  that  language  is  necessary  to  any  real 
thinking,  and  that  it  is  the  possession  of 
language  more  than  anything  or  everything 
else  that  makes  man  really  the  lord  of 
creation." 

"  Yes,"  said  Phil.  "  Even  Bre'r  Rabbit 
and  Bre'r  Fox  and  all  the  rest  of  them  are 
represented  as  putting  their  thoughts  into 
words." 

"  Perhaps,"  said  Irv,  "  that's  the  reason 
why  educated  people  think  more  soundly 
than  uneducated  ones.  They  have  a  nicer 
sense  of  the  meaning  of  words." 

"  Of  course,"  said  Ed.     "  I  suppose  that 


60    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

is  what  President  Eliot  of  Harvard  meant 
when  he  said  that  c  the  object  of  education 
is  to  teach  a  man  to  express  his  thought 
clearly  in  his  own  language/  " 

"Very  well,"  said  Phil.  "My  own 
thought,  clearly  expressed  in  my  own  lan- 
guage, is  that  it's  time  for  supper.  Come, 
stir  your  stumps,  ye  philosophical  pundits ! 
Bring  me  the  skillet  and  the  frying-pan,  the 
salt  pork  to  fry,  and  prepare  the  apples  and 
potatoes  and  eggs  to  cook  in  the  fat  thereof. 
In  the  classic  language  of  our  own  time,  get 
a  move  on  you,  and  don't  forget  the  coffee- 
pot ;  nor  yet  the  coffee  that  is  to  be  steeped 
therein  !  " 

The  boys  were  ready  enough  to  respond. 
Their  appetites,  sharpened  by  hard  work  in 
the  open  air,  were  clamorously  keen.  The 
supper  promised  —  fried  pork,  fried  apples, 
fried  eggs,  and  coffee  with  a  short-cake  — 
seemed  to  them  quite  all  that  could  be 
desired  in  the  way  of  luxury.  They  could 
eat  it  with  relish,  and  sleep  in  entire  com- 
fort afterward.  Probably  not  one  of  my 
readers  in  a  hundred  could  digest  such  a 
supper  at  all.  That  is  because  not  one 
reader  in  a  hundred  gives  himself  a  chance 
for  robust  health  by  working  nine  hours  a 


TALKING  61 


day  and  living  almost  entirely  in  the  open 
air. 

Jim  came  out  when  supper  was  ready  and 
helped  eat  it  there  on  the  shore.  At  other 
than  mealtimes  it  was  his  custom  to  stay 
on  board  the  flatboat,  and  not  only  so,  but 
to  keep  himself  below  decks,  although  the 
weather  was  still  very  warm.  He  had  got 
over  his  drunkenness,  but  he  was  still 
moody,  apparently  in  resentment  of  the 
rough-and-ready  treatment  he  had  received 
at  Phil's  hands. 

He  rarely  talked  at  all ;  when  he  did  talk, 
it  was  usually  in  the  dialect  of  an  entirely 
uneducated  person.  But  now  and  then  he 
used  expressions  that  no  such  person  would 
employ. 

"  He  seems  to  slip  into  his  grammar  now 
and  then,"  was  Irv  Strong's  way  of  put- 
ting it. 


CHAPTER   VIII 

THE    RIGHT    TO    THE    RIVER 

By  the  time  that  the  last  of  the  cargo  was 
bestowed,  the  boat  was  so  full  that  there  was 
scarcely  a  place  in  which  to  hang  the  four 
fire-extinguishers  which  Mr.  Schenck  had 
supplied  for  the  protection  of  the  cargo,  of 
which  he  owned  a  considerable  part. 

The  river  by  this  time  was  bank  full. 
Indeed,  the  flatboat  lay  that  last  night  almost 
under  an  apple  tree,  and  directly  over  the 
place  where  three  days  before  the  boys  had 
cooked  their  meals. 

When  the  final  start  was  made,  therefore, 
it  was  only  necessary  to  give  three  or  four 
strokes  of  the  great  "  sweeps  "  to  shove  the 
craft  out  into  the  stream.  After  that  she  was 
left  free  to  float.  The  biggest  bars  were  at  least 
ten  feet  under  water,  and  the  boat  "  drew  " 
less  than  three  feet,  heavily  laden  as  she  was. 
For  the  rest,  the  current  could  be  depended 
upon  to  "keep  her  in  the  river,"  as  boat- 
men say,  and  the  boys  had  nothing  to  do, 
62 


THE   RIGHT   TO   THE    RIVER      63 

between  Craig's  Landing  and  Louisville,  fifty 
or  sixty  miles  below,  except  pump  a  little 
now  and  then,  cook  their  meals,  and  set  up 
the  proper  lights  at  night.  Of  course  some- 
one was  always  "  on  watch,"  but  as  the  time 
was  divided  between  the  five,  that  amounted 
to  very  little. 

As  the  boat  neared  Louisville,  Ed  sug- 
gested to  his  brother  that  he  had  better  land 
above  the  town,  and  not  within  its  limits. 

"Why?"  asked  Phil.  "We've  got  to 
get  some  provisions  as  well  as  hire  a  falls 
pilot,  and  it  will  be  more  convenient  if  we 
land  at  the  levee." 

"  But  it  will  cost  us  five  or  ten  dollars  in 
good  money  for  wharfage,"  replied  Ed. 

"  But  if  we  land  above  the  town,  how  do 
we  know  the  man  owning  the  land  on  which 
we  tie  up  won't  charge  us  just  as  much  ?  " 
asked  Irv  Strong,  who  had  never  seen  a 
large  city  and  wanted  to  get  as  good  a 
glimpse  as  he  could  of  this  one. 

"Because  the  Mississippi  River  and  its 
tributaries  are  not  c  navigable '  waters,  but 
are  c  public  highways  for  purposes  of  com- 
merce/ "  responded  Ed.  "  If  they  weren't 
that  last,  we  couldn't  run  this  boat  down 
them  at  all." 


64    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

"  Not  navigable  ?  "  queried  Will  More- 
raud.  "  Well,  looking  at  that  big  steamboat 
out  there,  which  has  just  come  from  Cincin- 
nati, that  statement  seems  a  trifle  absurd." 

"  Let  me  explain,"  said  Ed.  "  The  Eng- 
lish common  law,  from  which  we  get  ours, 
calls  no  stream  c  navigable '  unless  the  tide 
ebbs  and  flows  in  it.  And  as  the  tide  does 
not  ebb  and  flow  in  the  Mississippi  much 
above  New  Orleans,  neither  that  great  river 
nor  any  of  its  splendid  tributaries  are  recog- 
nized by  the  law  as  navigable." 

"  Then  the  law  is  an  idiot,"  said  Irv 
Strong. 

"  One  of  Dickens's  characters  said  some- 
thing like  that,"  responded  Ed,"  when  he  was 
told  that  the  law  supposes  a  married  woman 
always  acts  under  direction  of  her  husband. 
But  both  he  and  you  are  wrong,  particularly 
you,  as  you'll  see  when  I  explain.  It  is 
absolutely  necessary  for  the  law  to  determine 
just  how  far  a  man's  ownership  of  land  lying 
along  a  stream  extends.     You  see  that  ?  " 

"  Of  course,"  was  the  general  response. 

"  Yes,"  continued  Ed,  "  otherwise  very 
perplexing  questions  would  arise  as  to  what 
a  man  might  or  might  not  do  along  shore. 
Now  in  England,  where  our  law  on  the  sub- 


THE   RIGHT  TO   THE   RIVER     65 

ject  comes  from,  it  is  a  fact  that  the  tide 
ebbs  and  flows  in  all  the  navigable  parts  of 
the  rivers  and  nowhere  else.  So  the  law 
made  the  tide  the  test,  or  rather  recognized 
it  as  a  test  already  established  by  nature. 

"  Now  in  order  that  commerce  might  be 
carried  on,  the  law  decreed  that  the  owner 
of  land  lying  on  a  navigable  stream  should 
own  only  to  the  edge  of  the  bank  —  or  to 
the  c  natural  break  of  the  bank/  as  the  law 
writers  express  it.  This  was  to  prevent 
owners  of  the  shores  from  levying  tribute 
on  ships  that  might  need  to  land  or  anchor 
in  front  of  their  property. 

"  But  on  streams  that  were  not  navigable, 
no  such  need  existed.  On  the  contrary,  it 
was  very  desirable,  for  many  reasons,  that 
the  owners  of  the  banks  should  be  free  to 
deal  as  they  saw  fit  with  the  streams  in  front 
— -  to  straighten  or  deepen  them,  and  all  that 
sort  of  thing.  So  the  law  decreed  that  on 
streams  not  navigable  the  owner  of  the  bank 
should  own  to  cthe  middle  thread  of  the 
water,'  wherever  that  might  happen  to  be. 

"  Now  as  all  these  great  rivers  of  ours,  the 
very  greatest  in  the  world,  by  the  way,  are 
in  law  non-navigable,  it  follows  that  the  men 
who  own  their  banks  own  the  rivers  also,  the 


66    THE   LAST   OF  THE   FLATBOATS 

man  on  each  side  owning  to  the  middle 
thread  of  water.  Naturally,  these  men  could 
step  in  and  say  that  nobody  should  run  a 
boat  through  their  part  of  the  river  without 
paying  whatever  toll  they  might  choose  to 
charge.  Under  such  a  system  it  would  be 
impossible  to  use  the  rivers  at  all.  It  would 
cost  nobody  knows  how  many  thousands  of 
dollars  in  tolls  to  run  a  boat,  say  from  Cin- 
cinnati to  New  Orleans." 

"Well,  why  don't  it,  then?"  asked  Will 
Moreraud.  "  Why  can't  every  farmer 
whose  land  we  pass  come  out  and  make  us 
pay  for  using  his  part  of  the  river  ? " 

"  For  the  same  reason,"  said  Ed,  "  that 
the  farmer  can't  come  out  and  make  you  pay 
toll  for  passing  over  a  public  road  which 
happens  to  cross  his  land." 

"  How  do  you  mean  ?  I  don't  under- 
stand," said  Irv. 

"  Well,  the  only  reason  the  farmer  can't 
make  you  pay  toll  for  crossing  his  land  on  a 
public  road  is,  that  the  road  is  made  by  law 
a  public  highway,  open  to  everybody's  use, 
and  it  is  a  criminal  offence  for  anybody  to 
obstruct  it,  either  by  setting  up  a  toll-gate, 
or  building  a  fence,  or*  felling  trees  across  it, 
or  in  any  other  way  whatever.     And  that's 


THE    RIGHT   TO    THE    RIVER      67 

the  only  reason  a  man  who  owns  land  along 
these  rivers  can't  charge  toll  for  their  use  or 
put  any  sort  of  obstruction  in  them  without 
getting  himself  into  trouble  with  the  law  for 
his  pains." 

"  How's  that  ? "  asked  one  of  the  boys. 
"  This  river  isn't  a  public  road." 

"That  is  precisely  what  it  is,"  said  Ed. 
"  Realizing  the  difficulty  created  by  the  fact 
that  this  great  river  system  is  not  legally 
navigable  while  its  actual  navigation  is  a 
common  necessity,  Congress  early  passed  a 
law  making  the  Mississippi  River  and  all  its 
tributaries  c  public  highways  for  purposes  of 
commerce.'  That's  why  nobody  can  pre- 
vent you  from  running  boats  on  them,  or 
charge  you  for  the  privilege." 

The  boys  were  deeply  interested  in  the 
explanation,  which  was  new  to  them,  and  so 
they  sat  silent  for  a  while,  thinking  it  over, 
as  people  are  apt  to  do  when  they  have 
heard  something  new  that  interests  them. 

Presently  Phil  said  :  — 

"That's  all  very  clear  and  I  understand  it, 
but  I  don't  quite  see  what  it  has  to  do  with 
where  we  land  at  Louisville." 

"Well,"  said  Ed,  "  I  can  explain  that. 
As  the  river  is  a  public  highway  for  purposes 


68    THE    LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

of  commerce,  nobody  can  charge  you  for  any 
legitimate  use  of  it,  or  its  shores  below  high- 
water  mark,  such  use,  for  example,  as  landing 
in  front  of  his  property,  a  thing  which  may 
be  absolutely  necessary  to  navigation.  But 
if  a  man  or  a  city  chooses  to  spend  money 
in  making  your  landing  easy  and  convenient, 
say  by  building  a  levee  or  wharf,  putting  in 
posts  for  you  to  make  your  boat  fast  by,  or 
anything  of  the  kind,  that  man  or  city  has 
a  right  to  charge  you,  not  for  landing,  but 
for  the  use  of  the  improvements  and  con- 
veniences/' 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  see,"  said  Phil.  "  Every  city 
does  that,  and  so  if  you  land  at  its  improved 
landing,  you  must  pay.  Well,  we'll  land  on 
unimproved  shores  above  Louisville,  and 
above  or  below  every  other  town  that  we 
have  occasion  to  land  at.  That's  business. 
But  I  don't  see  why  Congress  didn't  solve 
the  whole  riddle  by  adopting  a  new  rule  as 
to  what  are  and  what  are  not  navigable 
streams." 

"What  rule?"  asked  Ed. 

"  Well,  the  common-sense  rule,  that  a 
stream  which  is  actually  navigable  shall  be 
regarded  as   navigable  in  law." 

"  Actually    navigable    by    what  ?  "    asked 


THE   RIGHT  TO   THE   RIVER     69 

Ed.  "  There  isn't  a  spring  branch  in  all 
the  country  that  isn't  actually  navigable  by 
some  sort  of  boat.  Even  a  wash-basin  will 
float  a  toy  boat." 

"  Oh,  but  I  mean  real  boats." 

"  Of  what  size  ?  " 

"Well,  big  enough  to  carry  freight  or 
passengers." 

"Any  skiff  drawing  three  inches  of  water 
can  do  that.  Such  a  rule  would  include 
Indian  Creek  and  Long  Run,  and  even  all 
the  branches  we  go  wading  in,  as  navigable 
streams.  And  then  again,  some  streams  are 
practically  navigable  even  by  steamboats  at 
some  seasons  of  the  year,  and  almost  or  al- 
together dry  at  others.  This  great  Ohio 
River  of  ours,  in  its  upper  parts  at  least, 
goes  pretty  nearly  dry  some  summers.  No, 
I  don't  see  how  any  other  line  than  that  of 
the  tide  could  have  been  drawn,  or  how  the 
other  difficulty  could  have  been  met  in  any 
better  way  than  by  declaring  the  Mississippi 
and  all  its  tributaries  c  public  highways  for 
purposes  of  commerce.'  That  was  the  sim- 
plest way  out,  and  the  simplest  way  is  usually 
the  best  way."  1 

1  Ed's  exposition  of  the  law  and  the  reason  for  it  is  sound  enough. 
But  different  states,  by  statutes  or  court  decisions,  have  somewhat  modi- 


70    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

"Yes,"  said  Irv  Strong,  "and  as  the 
simplest  way  to  relieve  hunger  is  to  eat,  I 
move  that  we  stop  talking  and  get  dinner." 

The  suggestion  was  accepted  without  dis- 
sent, and  the  two  whose  turn  it  was  to  cook 
went  below  to  start  a  fire  in  the  stove. 

fied  it,  particularly  as  regards  the  extent  of  bank  ownership.  Probably 
Ed  knew  this,  but  didn't  think  it  necessary  to  go  into  details,  which, 
after  all,  do  not  change  the  general  truth.  —  Author, 


CHAPTER   IX 

WHAT    HAPPENED    AT    LOUISVILLE 

Just  before  the  landing  was  made  at 
Louisville,  Jim  Hughes  was  seized  with  an 
attack  of  cramps  and  took  to  his  bunk,  where 
he  remained  until  near  the  time  for  the  boat 
to  be  afloat  again.  The  boys  had  feared  that 
he  might  go  ashore  there  and  get  a  new 
supply  of  liquor,  and  they  had  even  made 
careful  plans  to  prevent  him  from  bringing 
any  aboard.  His  sudden  sickness  rendered 
all  their  plans  superfluous. 

At  Louisville  Phil  got  a  fresh  supply  of 
newspapers,  giving  all  the  latest  news  con- 
cerning the  great  bond  robbery,  and  took 
them  aboard  to  read  at  leisure.  He  learned 
that  there  was  no  need  of  hiring  a  pilot  to 
take  the  boat  over  the  falls,  which  in  fact  are 
not  falls  at  all,  but  merely  rapids.  At  very 
high  water  such  as  just  then  prevailed,  the 
only  difference  between  that  part  of  the  river 
called  the  falls  and  any  other  part  was  that 
71 


72    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

that  part  had  a  much   swifter  and  far  less 
steady  current  than  prevailed  elsewhere. 

"  I  could  take  your  money  for  piloting 
you  over  the  falls,"  said  the  genial  old  pilot 
to  whom  Phil  had  applied,  "  but  it  would  be 
robbery.  I'm  a  pilot,  not  a  pirate,  you  see. 
All  you've  got  to  do,  my  boy,  is  to  put  your 
flatboat  well  out  into  the  river  and  let  her 
go.  She'll  amble  over  the  falls  at  this  stage 
of  the  water  as  gently  as  a  well-built  girl 
waltzes  over  a  ball-room  floor.  She'll  turn 
round  and  round,  just  as  the  girl  does,  but 
it'll  be  just  as  innocent-like.  There'll  be 
never  less  than  twenty-five  foot  o'  water 
under  your  gunwales,  and  there  simply  can't 
any  harm  come  to  you.  Don't  pay  any- 
body anything  to  pilot  you  over.  Do  it 
yourself,  and  if  anything  happens  to  you,  just 
let  old  Jabez  Brown  know  where  it  hap- 
pened, please.  For  if  there's  any  new  rocks 
sprouted  up  on  the  falls  of  the  Ohio  since 
the  water  rose,  an  old  falls  pilot  like  me  just 
naterally  wants  to  know  about  'em." 

After  laying  in  the  provision  supply  that 
was  needed,  including  especially  a  big  can 
of  milk  packed  in  a  barrel  of  cracked  ice, 
Phil  returned  to  the  boat  and  announced  his 
purpose  of  "running  the  falls"  without  a 


WHAT  HAPPENED  AT  LOUISVILLE    73 

pilot.  It  was  at  supper  in  the  cabin  that  he 
made  the  announcement,  and  Jim  Hughes, 
who  had  been  lying  in  his  bunk  with  his 
face  toward  the  bulkhead,  suddenly  sat  up. 

"  Good  !  "  he  said.  "  They  ain't  no  use 
fer  a  pilot  when  the  river's  bank  full  this 
way.     When'll  you  start,  Phil  ?  " 

"  Just  after  daylight  to-morrow  morning," 
replied  the  captain. 

"  Well,  I  feel  so  much  better,"  said  Jim, 
getting  out  of  his  bunk,  "I  think  I'll  sample 
the  pork  and  potatoes  and  throw  in  just  a 
little  o'  that  hot  corn  bread  and  the  new 
butter  for  ballast." 

"  For  a  man  who  a  few  hours  ago  was 
violently  ill  with  an  intestinal  disorder," 
remarked  Irv  Strong  a  little  later  with  a 
very  pronounced  note  of  sarcasm  in  his 
tone,  "  it  seems  to  me,  Jim,  that  you're  eating 
a  tolerably  robust  supper.  Now  if  I'd  had 
the  cramps  you've  been  suffering  from  to- 
day, I  really  wouldn't  venture  upon  cabbage 
and  potatoes  boiled  with  salt  pork.  I'd  try 
something  c  bland '  first,  like  a  half  pound 
of  shot  or  a  pig's  knuckle,  or  a  bologna 
sausage  or  a  few  soft-boiled  cobble-stones." 

But  Jim  was  deaf  to  the  sarcasm  and  went 
on  eating  voraciously. 


74    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

"Wonder  what  that  fellow  is  afraid  of," 
said  Phil  to  Irv  as  they  went  out  on  deck  to 
set  the  lights  and  make  ready  for  the  night. 

"  Don't  at  all  know,"  responded  Irv, 
"unless  he  owes  money  to  somebody  in 
Louisville.  All  I  know  is  that  he  must 
have  feigned  that  attack  of  cramps,  else  he 
couldn't  eat  now  in  the  way  he  does.  He 
didn't  want  to  go  ashore  with  you  as  you 
proposed,  to  hunt  for  a  falls  pilot." 

"Yes,"  said  Ed  Lowry,  "I've  known  all 
day  that  he  was  shamming,  because  he  hasn't 
had  the  slightest  touch  or  trace  of  proper 
symptoms.  Even  when  he  professed  to  be 
in  the  most  excruciating  pain  his  pulse  wasn't 
in  the  least  bit  disturbed.  I'm  no  doctor, 
but  I  know  enough  to  say  positively  that  a 
man  with  any  such  cramps  as  he  pretended 
to  have  simply  couldn't  have  kept  his  pulse 
calmly  beating  seventy-two  times  a  minute 
as  his  did.  I  timed  it  three  times  and  then 
quit  bothering  with  the  fellow  because  I 
knew  he  was  shamming." 

"  Wonder  what  he  meant  by  it,"  said 
Will. 

"Shoo!"  said  Constant;  "he's  listening 
at  the  top  of  the  gangway." 

"And  /  wonder  what  that  means,"  said 


WHAT  HAPPENED  AT  LOUISVILLE    75 

Phil,*  whose  alert  observation  of  the  pro- 
fessed pilot  had  never  been  relaxed  since  the 
episode  at  Craig's  Landing ;  "  I  wonder  what 
he's  listening  for." 

There  was  naturally  no  response,  for  the 
reason  that  nobody  had  anything  to  suggest. 
So  the  boys  went  toward  the  bow  where  the 
anchor-light  hung,  to  hear  Phil  read  in  his 
newspapers  all  the  latest  details  about  the 
great  bond  robbery.  They  read  on  deck 
rather  than  in  the  cabin,  because  one  boy 
must  at  any  rate  remain  there  on  watch,  and 
they  all  wished  to  hear. 

The  newspapers  related  that  one  of  the 
gang  of  robbers  was  believed  to  have  got 
away  with  the  stolen  bonds  and  money,  and 
that  the  main  purpose  now  was  to  find  him. 
One  man  connected  with  the  crime  was 
already  in  custody,  and  from  hints  given  by 
him  it  was  hoped  that  he  might  turn  state's 
evidence  in  his  own  resentment  against  the 
"  carrier  of  the  swag,"  who,  it  was  believed, 
had  deserted  his  fellow  thieves,  or  some  of 
them,  and  meant  to  keep  the  whole  of  the 
proceeds  of  the  robbery  for  himself  and  one 
or  two  others.  At  any  rate,  the  man  in  cus- 
tody had  given  hints  that  were  thought  to 
be  distinctly   helpful  toward  the    discovery 


76    THE   LAST   OF  THE   FLATBOATS 

of  the  "  carrier "  and  his  partners  who  had 
betrayed  the  rest  of  their  fellows. 

The  case  was  very  interesting,  but  the 
boys  must  be  up  early  in  the  morning,  so  at 
last  they  broke  up  their  little  confab,  and  all 
but  one  of  them  went  to  bed.  Constant 
Thiebaud,  who  first  reached  the  ladder-head, 
found  Jim  Hughes  seated  there  with  his 
head  just  above  the  deck. 

"  I  thought  you  were  in  bed  long  ago," 
said  Constant. 

"  So  I  was,"  said  Jim ;  "  but  I  got  restless 
and  came  out  for  some  air." 

It  wasn't  at  all  the  kind  of  sentence  that 
Jim  Hughes  was  accustomed  to  frame,  and 
the  boys  observed  the  fact.  But  they  had 
got  used  to  what  Irv  Strong  called  Jim's 
"inadvertent  lapses  into  grammar,"  and  so 
they  went  to  their  bunks  without  further 
thought  of  the  matter. 


CHAPTER  X 

JIM 

It  didn't  take  long  to  "run  the  falls.'1 
From  where  the  flatboat  lay  above  Louis- 
ville to  the  lower  end  of  the  rapids  was  a 
distance  of  about  eight  or  ten  miles.  Not 
only  was  the  river  bank  full,  but  a  great  wave 
of  additional  water  —  a  rise  of  four  or  five 
inches  to  the  hour — struck  them  just  as 
they  pushed  their  craft  out  into  the  stream. 
There  was  a  current  of  six  miles  an  hour 
even  as  they  passed  the  city,  which  quick- 
ened to  eight  or  ten  miles  an  hour  when  they 
reached  the  falls  proper. 

The  boat  fully  justified  the  old  pilot's 
simile  of  a  girl  waltzing.  She  turned  and 
twisted  about,  first  one  way  and  then  the 
other,  and  now  and  then  shot  off  in  a  totally 
new  direction,  toward  one  shore  or  the  other, 
or  straight  down  stream. 

It  all  seemed  perilous  in  the  extreme,  and 
at  one  time  Jim  Hughes  hurriedly  went  be- 
low and  brought  up  his  carpet-bag,  which  he 
77 


78    THE   LAST    OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

deposited  in  one  of  the  skiffs  that  lay  on 
deck. 

"  What's  the  matter,  Jim  ? "  asked  Phil, 
who  was  more  and  more  disposed  to  watch 
the  fellow  suspiciously.  "  What  are  you 
doing  that  for?*' 

"  Well,  you  see  we  mout  strike  a  rock, 
and  it's  best  to  be  ready." 

"Yes,"  said  Phil,  "but  what  have  you  got 
in  your  carpet-bag  that  you're  so  careful 
of?  "  and  as  he  asked  the  question  he  looked 
intently  into  Jim's  eyes,  hoping  to  surprise 
there  a  more  truthful  answer  than  he  was 
likely  to  get  from  Jim's  lips. 

"  Oh,  nothin'  but  my  clothes,"  said  Jim, 
hastily  avoiding  the  scrutiny. 

"  Must  be  a  dress-suit  or  two  among 
them,"  said  Phil,  "  or  you'd  be  thinking  less 
about  them  and  more  about  your  skin. 
Let's  see  them  ! "  he  added  suddenly,  and 
offering  to  open  the  bag. 

Jim  snatched  it  away  quickly,  muttering 
something  which  the  boy  didn't  catch.  But 
by  that  time  the  falls  were  passed  and  the 
flatboat  was  floating  through  calm  waters 
between  Portland  and  New  Albany.  So 
Jim  retreated  to  the  cabin  and  bestowed  his 
precious  carpet-bag  again  under  the  straw  of 


JIM  79 

his  bunk,  where  he    had  kept  it  from  the 
first. 

"Wonder  what  he's  got  there,  Phil," 
said  Irv  Strong,  who  had  been  attentive  to 
the  colloquy. 

"Don't  know,"  replied  Phil;  "but  if 
things  go  on  this  way,  the  time  will  come 
when  I'll  decide  to  find  out." 

"  By  the  way,"  broke  in  Will  Moreraud, 
"  did  any  of  you  see  him  bring  that  carpet- 
bag aboard  ?" 

Nobody  could  remember. 

"  Guess  he  sneaked  it  aboard  as  he  did  that 
jug,"  said  Phil,  "  and  as  he  did  his  cramps." 

"  Don't  be  too  hard  on  the  fellow,  boys," 
said  Ed,  whose  generosity  was  always  apt  to 
get  the  better  of  his  judgment.  "  Remem- 
ber he's  ignorant,  and  ignorance  is  always 
inclined  to  be  suspicious.  Probaby  he 
hasn't  more  than  a  dollar's  worth  or  so  in 
that  carpet-bag ;  but  as  it  is  all  he  has  in  the 
world,  he's  naturally  careful  of  it.  He's 
afraid  some  of  us  will  steal  his  things=  If 
he  knew  more,  he  would  know  better.  But 
he  doesn't  know  more.  So  he  guards  his 
poor  little  possessions  jealously." 

There  was  silence  for  a  minute0  Then 
Phil  said  :  — 


80   THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

"  See  if  he's  listening,  Constant ; "  and 
when  Constant  had  strolled  to  the  gangway 
and  reported  "all  clear/'  Phil  had  this  to 
say :  — 

"  I'm  not  over-suspicious,  I  think.  I 
don't  want  to  be  unjust  to  anybody.  But 
I'm  responsible  on  this  cruise,  and  it's  my 
duty  to  notice  things  carefully." 

"  Of  course,"  said  Irv  Strong,  the  other 
"  irreclaimable."  "  I  haven't  a  doubt  you 
noticed  that  I  ate  four  eggs  and  two  slices  of 
ham  for  breakfast  this  morning.  But  before 
you  c  call  me  down  '  for  it,  I  want  to  say  that 
I'm  going  to  do  the  same  thing  to-morrow 
morning,  because,  since  I  came  on  the  river, 
I've  got  the  biggest  hunger  on  me  that  I 
ever  had  in  my  life,  and  not  at  all  because 
I  have  any  diabolical  plot  in  my  mind  to 
starve  the  crew  of  this  flatboat  into  submis- 
sion or  admission  or  permission  or  any  other 
sort  of  mission." 

But  Phil  did  not  smile  at  the  pleasantry. 
He  hesitated  a  moment  before  replying,  as 
if  afraid  that  he  might  say  too  much ;  for 
Phil,  the  captain,  was  a  very  different  person 
from  the  happy-go-lucky  Phil  his  comrades 
had  hitherto  known.  After  a  little  while  he 
said :  — 


JIM  8 1 

"You  remember,  don't  you,  that  Jim 
Hughes  wanted  to  c  get  down  the  river '  so 
badly  that  he  shipped  with  us  without  pay  ? 
If  he  is  so  poor  that  he  has  only  that  carpet- 
bag and  only  a  few  dollars'  worth  of  stuff  in 
it,  why  didn't  he  try  to  c  strike 9  us  for  some 
sort  of  wages  ?  Does  anybody  here  know 
where  he  came  from,  or  why  he  came,  or 
where  he  is  trying  to  go  to,  or  why  he  wants 
to  go  there,  or  in  fact  who  he  is,  or  anything 
about  him  ?  Can  anybody  explain  why  he 
shammed  cramps  yesterday  ?  " 

"To  all  the  highly  interesting  questions 
in  that  competitive  examination,"  said  Irv 
Strong,  "  I  beg  permission  to  answer,  in 
words  made  familiar  to  one  by  frequent 
school  use  —  c  not  prepared  to  answer.'  " 

All  the  boys  laughed  except  Phil.  He  was 
serious.  The  boy  hadn't  at  all  gone  out  of 
him,  as  was  proved  by  the  fact  that  in  spite 
of  the  October  chill  in  the  air  he  just  then 
slipped  off  his  clothes  and  "  took  a  header  " 
into  the  river.  But  the  serious  man  had 
come  into  him  with  responsibility,  as  was 
shown  by  the  fact  that  he  used  a  towel  to 
rub  himself  with  after  his  bath.  Having 
donned  his  clothes,  he  continued  :  — 

"  There  may  be  nothing  wrong  about  Jim 


82    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

Hughes.  I  don't  say  there  is  anything 
wrong.  But  there  is  a  good  deal  that  is 
suspicious.  So,  while  I  accuse  him  of  noth- 
ing, I'm  watching  him,  and  I  have  been 
watching  him  ever  since  we  left  Craig's 
Landing.  I  don't  believe  he  was  drunk 
there,  for  one  thing." 

"  Don't  believe  he  was  drunk  !  "  exclaimed 
the  boys  in  a  breath.  "  Why,  you  had  to 
knock  him  down  yourself  to  save  the  land- 
ing!" 

"  Yes,  of  course,"  said  Phil.  "  But  I  took 
pains  afterward  to  smell  his  breath  while  he 
was  supposed  to  be  in  a  drunken  stupor,  and 
there  wasn't  a  trace  of  whiskey  on  it." 

"  But  you  remember  we  found  his  jug  hid 
among  the  freight." 

"  You  did,"  replied  Phil ;  "  and  you  re- 
ported to  me,  though  you  may  have  forgot- 
ten the  fact,  that  it  was  c  full  up  to  the  cork.' 
Those  were  your  own  words,  Will." 

Will  remembered,  though  he  had  not 
before  thought  of  the  significance  of  the  fact. 

"  Well,  Phil,  what  was  the  matter  with 
him,  then  ?  "  asked  Ed. 

"  Shamming,  just  as  he  shammed  the 
cramps  yesterday." 

"  But  for  what  purpose  ?  " 


JIM 83 

"  I  don't  know,  any  more  than  you  know 
why  he  pretended  to  have  cramps.  My 
theory  is  that  he  was  so  anxious  to  get  down 
the  river  that  he  tried  to  make  us  miss 
Craig's  Landing  entirely.  The  sum  and  sub- 
stance of  the  matter  is  this.  At  Craig's 
Landing  I  wanted  to  put  the  fellow  ashore. 
Now  I  don't  want  to  do  anything  of  the 
kind,  and  I  won't  either,  till  I  can  read  a  good 
many  riddles  that  he  has  given  me  to  puzzle 
over." 

"  Can  we  help  you  to  read  the  riddles  ?  " 

"  Yes.  Watch  him  closely,  and  tell  me 
everything  you  observe,  no  matter  how  little 
it  may  seem  to  mean." 

Just  then  Jim  Hughes  came  up  out  of  the 
cabin  scuttle,  and  all  the  boys  except  Phil 
found  occasion  to  go  to  other  parts  of  the 
boat.  When  you  have  been  talking  un- 
pleasantly about  another  person,  you  natu- 
rally shrink  from  talking  to  him. 

Phil,  however,  stood  his  ground.  "  Hello, 
Jim  ! "  he  called  out.  "  How  are  the  cramps, 
and  how's  the  carpet-bag  ?  Going  to  try  to 
earn  your  board  now  by  steering  a  little  ?  " 

Jim  hesitated  in  embarrassment.  Sud- 
denly Phil  began  bombarding  him  with 
questions  like  shots  from   a  rapid-fire  gun. 


84    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

"  Where  did  you  come  from,  anyhow,  Jim  ? 
What's  your  real  name  ?  What  are  you 
hiding  from  ?  How  much  do  you  know 
about  the  river?  and  about  flatboating? 
Have  you  really  ever  been  down  the  river 
before,  or  was  that  all  a  sham  like  your 
cramps  yesterday  ?  Who  are  you  ?  What 
are  you  ? " 

Jim  struggled  for  a  moment.  There  was 
that  in  his  face  which  might  have  appalled 
anybody  but  a  full-blooded,  resolute,  dare- 
all  boy.     But  he  quickly  mastered  himself. 

"  See  here,  Phil,"  he  said  in  persuasive 
tones,  "  you're  mighty  hard  on  a  poor  feller 
like  me,  and  I  don't  know  why.  That  was  a 
vicious  clip  you  hit  me  at  Craig's  Landing." 

Phil  instantly  responded,  and  again  after 
the  fashion  of  a  breach-loader.  "  So  you 
remember  that,  do  you  ?  Then  you  were 
not  so  drunk  as  you  pretended." 

"  Well,"  said  Jim,  "  I  was  pretty  full,  but 
of  course  I  knew  who  hit  me." 

"You  were  not  drunk  at  all,"  said  the 
boy.  "  You  hadn't  even  been  drinking.  I 
smelt  of  your  breath,  and  the  blow  I  struck 
didn't  knock  you  senseless,  for  an  hour,  as 
you  pretended,  or  for  six  seconds  either. 
Now  look  here,  Jim,  I  don't  know  what  your 


JIM  8S 

purpose  is  in  all  this  shamming,  but  I  know 
for  a  fact  that  it  is  shamming,  and  I've  had 
quite  enough  of  it." 

With  that  the  boy  turned  "away  in  that 
profound  disgust  which  every  healthy-minded 
boy  or  man  feels  for  a  lie  and  a  liar. 


CHAPTER  XI 

THE    WONDERFUL    RIVER 

As  the  "Knobs"  —  which  is  the  name 
given  to  the  high  hills  back  of  New  Albany 
—  receded,  the  day  was  still  young.  It  was 
also  overcast  and  cool.  So  Ed,  who  was 
always  studying  something,  brought  his  big 
map  up  on  deck  and,  spreading  it  out,  lay 
down  on  his  stomach  to  study  it.  He 
worked  over  it  till  dinner  time,  and  in  the 
afternoon  he  spread  it  out  again. 

The  boys  having  gathered  around  him, 
he  said:  — 

"  I  say,  fellows,  we  are  making  a  journey 
that  we  ought  to  remember  as  long  as  we 
live.  We  are  going  over  a  small  but  impor- 
tant part  of  the  greatest  river  system  in  the 
world." 

"  c  Small  but  important  part,'  "  said  Will, 
quoting.     "Well,  I  like  that." 

"  What's  your  objection/'  said  Ed  Lowry, 
for    the    moment    borrowing    Irv    Strong's 

86 


THE   WONDERFUL   RIVER         87 

playful  method,  —  "what's  your  objection  to 
my  carefully  chosen  descriptive  adjectives  ?  " 

"  Well,  we're  going  over  pretty  nearly  the 
whole  of  it,  aren't  we  ?  " 

"  Not  by  any  manner  of  means/'  responded 
Ed.  "  We  aren't  going  over  more  than  a 
small  fraction  of  it." 

"  Why,  the  Ohio  River  alone  is  thirteen 
hundred  miles  long,"  said  Will ;  "  I  remem- 
ber that  much  of  my  geography ;  and  most 
of  the  Mississippi  lies  below  the  mouth  of 
the  Ohio,  doesn't  it  ?  " 

"  It's  lucky  you've  passed  your  geography 
examinations  in  the  high  school,  Will," 
said  Ed.  "  Now  come  here,  all  you  fellows, 
and  take  a  look.  This  map  shows  the  entire 
system  of  rivers  of  which  the  Mississippi  is 
the  mother.  It  is  the  greatest  river  system 
in  the  world.  There  is  nothing,  in  fact,  to 
compare  it  with  but  the  Amazon  and  its  tribu- 
taries, and  they  have  never  done  anything  for 
mankind,  because  they  lie  almost  wholly  in  an 
unsettled  and  uncivilized  tropical  region  that 
has  no  commerce  and  no  need  of  any,  while 
the  Mississippi  and  its  tributaries  have  built 
up  an  empire.  They  have  in  effect  created 
the  better  part  of  this  vast  country  of  ours 
that  is  feeding  the  world  and  — " 


88    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

"  Oh,  come  now/'  said  Irv  Strong.  "  You 
aren't  writing  a  composition  or  an  editorial 
for  the  Vevay  Reveille"  This  was  in  allu- 
sion to  the  fact  that  Ed  sometimes  published 
"  pieces  "  in  the  local  newspaper. 

"  Well,  no,"  said  Ed,  laughing  at  his  own 
enthusiasm.  "  Besides,  I'll  come  to  all  that 
some  other  time  perhaps.  At  present  I 
want  to  give  Will  some  new  ideas  about 
the  bigness  of  our  river  system.  True,  the 
Ohio  is  twelve  or  thirteen  hundred  miles 
long,  but  about  half  of  it  lies  above  Vevay, 
so  we're  covering  only  six  or  seven  hundred 
miles  of  it.  From  Cairo  to  New  Orleans  — 
the  part  of  the  Mississippi  we  shall  traverse 
—  is  about  one  thousand  and  fifty  miles  long. 
So  we're  only  going  to  travel  over  sixteen 
or  seventeen  hundred  miles  of  river.  Now 
there  are  about  fifteen  or  sixteen  thousand 
miles  of  this  river  system  that  steamboats 
can,  and  actually  do,  navigate,  and  nobody 
has  ever  really  reckoned  the  length  of  the 
rest  —  the  parts  not  navigable.  We're 
going  over  only  about  one-tenth  of  the 
navigable  part  —  one  twenty-fifth  part  per- 
haps of  the  whole." 

By  this  time  the  boys  were  all  lying  prone 
around  the  big  map,  their  feet  radiating  in 


THE   WONDERFUL   RIVER         89 

every  direction  from  it,  like  light-rays  from 
a  star. 

"  See  here,"  said  Ed ;  "  here's  the  Ten- 
nessee River.  It's  a  mere  tributary  of  the 
Ohio,  yet  it  is  about  two-thirds  as  long  as 
the  main  river.  Its  head  waters  are  in  Vir- 
ginia, North  Carolina,  and  South  Carolina. 
It  starts  out  through  Tennessee  and  tries,  in 
a  stupid  sort  of  fashion,  to  find  its  way  to 
the  Gulf  of  Mexico  through  Alabama.  But 
it  gets  discouraged  by  the  mountains  down 
there,  turns  back,  throws  a  dash  of  water 
into  the  face  of  the  state  of  Mississippi, 
returns  to  Tennessee  and  travels  north 
clear  across  that  state  and  Kentucky,  and 
finally  in  despair  gives  up  its  effort  to  find 
the  sea  and  turns  the  job  over  to  the  Ohio. 
Look  at  it  on  the  map  ! " 

"And  as  if  it  thought  the  Tennessee  had 
more  than  it  could  do  to  drain  so  great  a 
region,"  said  Phil,  studying  the  map,  "the 
Cumberland  also  went  into  the  business  and 
after  pretty  nearly  paralleling  its  sister  river 
for  a  great  many  hundreds  of  miles,  fell  into 
the  Ohio  only  a  few  miles  above  the  mouth 
of  the  Tennessee.  The  two  together  are 
longer  than  the  Ohio  itself." 

"  Very  decidedly,"  said  Ed.     "  And  then 


9o    THE   LAST   OF   THE    FLATBOATS 

there  are  all  the  other  tributaries  of  the 
Ohio,  —  look  at  them  on  the  map.  To- 
gether they  again  exceed  its  total  length." 

The  boys  looked  at  the  map  and  saw  that 
it  was  so.     Then  Ed  resumed  :  — 

"  But,  after  all,  the  Ohio  and  all  its  tribu- 
taries combined  amount  to  a  very  small  part 
of  the  great  system.  The  lower  Mississippi 
itself  from  Cairo  to  the  mouth  is  almost 
exactly  as  long  as  the  Ohio.  Then  there 
are  the  upper  Mississippi,  —  stretching  clear 
up  into  Minnesota,  —  the  Illinois,  the  Wis- 
consin, etc.,  the  Missouri  and  its  vast 
tributaries  flowing  from  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains, the  Arkansas,  the  Red  River,  the 
Ouashita,  the  White,  the  St.  Francis,  the 
Yazoo,  the  Tallahatchie,  the  Sunflower, 
the  Yalobusha  —  and  a  score  of  others,  to 
say  nothing  of  the  vast  bayous  that  connect 
with  the  wonderful  river  down  South.  Here 
they  all  are  on  the  map.     Look  !  " 

The  next  fifteen  minutes  were  given  up 
to  a  study  of  the  map,  interested  fingers 
tracing  out  the  rivers,  and  a  continual  chatter 
contributing,  after  the  manner  of  boys'  talk, 
to  the  general  stock  of  information.  Pres- 
ently Irv  Strong  spoke.  He  had  never 
before  in  his  life  been  silent  so  long. 


THE   WONDERFUL    RIVER         91 

"  I  remember,  at  this  stage  of  the  pro- 
ceedings, the  wise  remark  of  our  honored 
teacher,  Mrs.  Dupont,  that  c  eyes  are  excel- 
lent to  see  with,  but  one  interpretative  brain 
means  more  than  many  additional  pairs  of 
eyes. 

"  What's  all  that  got  to  do  with  it  ? " 
asked  Constant.  "  She  was  talking  about 
Darwin  and  Spencer  when  she  said  that. 
What's  either  of  them  got  to  do  with  this 
river  ?  " 

"  Ah,  Constant !  "  said  Irv,  in  mock  mel- 
ancholy. "You  grieve  me  to  the  heart. 
You  never  will  see  the  inward  and  spiritual 
meaning  of  my  outward  and  visible  quota- 
tions. I  mean  that  Ed  Lowry  has  studied 
out  this  whole  thing  and  knows  'steen  times 
more  about  it  and  what  it  means  than  we 
blockheads  would  find  out  by  studying  the 
map  for  a  dog's  age.  I  venture  that  asser- 
tion boldly,  without  having  the  remotest 
notion  of  what  constitutes  a  dog's  age.  My 
idea  is  that  we  fellows  ought  to  shut  up, 
though  I'm  personally  not  fond  of  doing 
that,  and  let  Ed  gently  distil  into  our  minds 
his  information  about  all  these  things.  Let's 
have  the  benefit  of  the  'interpretative 
brain ' ! " 


92    THE    LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

"  Let's  take  a  header  first,"  cried  Phil, 
shedding  his  clothes  again.  u  I'll  beat  the 
best  of  you  in  a  swim  around  the  boat,  or 
if  I  lose,  I'll  wash  the  dishes  for  a  whole 
day." 

And  with  that  he  went  head  foremost 
overboard,  Will  and  Irv  following  him. 

When  they  reappeared  on  deck,  blowing 
like  porpoises  and  glowing  like  boiled  lob- 
sters, Ed  said :  — 

"  You  fellows  are  regular  water-rats  ;  Phil 
is,  anyhow.  He's  in  this  water  half  a 
dozen  times  a  day,  no  matter  how  cold  the 
wind  is." 

"That's  just  it,"  said  Phil.  "The  water 
isn't  anything  like  so  cold  as  this  October 
air."  Then,  with  mock  seriousness :  "  Be- 
lieve me,  my  dearly  beloved  brother,  it  is 
to  escape  the  frigidity  of  the  atmosphere,  or, 
as  it  were,  to  warm  myself,  that  .1  jump  into 
the  river.  You  were  reading  a  poem  the 
other  day  in  which  the  stricken-spirited  scribe 
said :  — 

*  For  my  part  I  wish  to  enjoy  what  I  can  — 
A  sunset,  if  only  a  sunset  be  near, 
A  moon  such  as  this  if  the  weather  be  clear,' 

and  much  else  to  the  like  effect.     As  you  read 
the  glittering,  golden  words,  I  said   in   my 


THE   WONDERFUL   RIVER         93 

soul :  c  Bully  for  you,  oh  poet !  I'm  your 
man  for  those  sentiments  every  time.'  And 
just  now  the  poet  and  I  agree  that  nothing 
in  this  world  would  minister  so  much  to  our 
immediate  enjoyment  as  to  jump  off  the 
boat  again  on  the  larboard  side,  dive  clear 
under  her  and  come  up  on  the  starboard. 
Here  goes !  Who's  the  poet  to  follow 
me?"  And  overboard  the  boy  went,  feet 
first  this  time,  for  after  striking  the  water  and 
sinking  to  a  safe  depth,  he  must  turn  him- 
self about  and  swim  under  water  for  fifty  or 
sixty  feet  before  daring  to  come  to  the  sur- 
face again. 

Nobody  tried  to  perform  the  feat  in  em- 
ulation of  the  reckless  fellow.  It  involved 
a  great  many  dangers  and  a  still  greater 
many  of  disagreeable  possibilities  such  as 
broken  heads,  skinned  backs,  and  abraded 
shins.  Of  that  I  can  give  my  readers  full 
assurance  because  I've  done  the  thing  my- 
self many  times,  and  bear  some  scars  as 
witnesses  of  its  risks. 

But  it  was  Phil's  rule  of  life  never  to  let 
anybody  "  do  anything  in  the  swimming 
way  "  that  he  couldn't  do  equally  well.  He 
had  once  seen  somebody  dive  under  a  steam- 
boat and  come  up  safely  on  the  other  side. 


94    THE    LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

So  he  straightway  dived  under  the  same 
steamboat  and  came  up  safely  on  .the  other 
side.  After  that,  diving  under  a  flatboat 
was  a  mere  trifle  to  him. 


MAP    OF    THE    MISSISSIPPI    Rfc 
Prepared  expressly  for  this  work  under  the  personal  direction  of  Lfe 

Note.  —  Navigable  M 


UR    AND    ITS    TRIBUTARIES. 

*  Col.  Alexander  McKenzie,  Corps  of  Engineers,  U,  S.  Army. 


CHAPTER  XII 

THE    WONDERFUL    RIVER'S    WORK 

"Now,  then/'  said  Phil,  wrapping  a 
blanket  around  his  person,  for  the  air  was  in- 
deed very  chill,  and  prostrating  himself  over 
the  map,  "  now,  then,  let  the  c  interpretative 
brain '  get  in  its  work !  I  interrupted  the 
proceedings  just  to  take  a  personal  observa- 
tion of  the  river  we  are  to  hear  all  about. 
Goon,  Ned !" 

"Wait  a  bit  —  I'm  counting,"  said  Ed; 
"  twenty-five,  twenty-six,  twenty-seven, 
twenty-eight.  There.  If  you'll  look  at 
the  map,  you'll  see  that  the  water  which  the 
Mississippi  carries  down  to  the  sea  through 
a  channel  about  half  a  mile  wide  below  New 
Orleans,  comes  from  twenty-eight  states  be- 
sides the  Indian  Territory. " 

"  What !  oh,  nonsense  ! "  were  the  ex- 
clamations that  greeted  this  statement. 

"  Look,  and  count  for  yourselves,"  said 
Ed,  pointing  to  various   parts  of  the  map 

95 


96    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

as  he  proceeded.  "  Here  they  are :  New 
York,  Pennsylvania,  West  Virginia,  Virginia, 
North  Carolina,  South  Carolina,  Kentucky, 
Tennessee,  Alabama,  Mississippi,  Georgia, 
Ohio,  Indiana,  Illinois,  Wisconsin,  Iowa, 
Minnesota,  North  Dakota,  South  Dakota, 
Montana,  Wyoming,  Colorado,  Missouri, 
Kansas,  Nebraska,  Arkansas,  Louisiana, 
Texas,  and  the  Indian  Territory.  Very 
little  comes  from  New  York  or  South  Caro- 
lina or  Texas,  and  not  a  great  deal  from 
some  others  of  the  states  named,  but  some 
does,  as  you  will  see  by  following  up  the 
lines  on  the  map.  The  rest  of  the  states 
mentioned  send  the  greater  part  of  all  their 
rainfall  to  the  sea  by  this  route/' 

"  Well,  you  could  at  this  moment  knock 
me  down  with  a  feather,"  said  Irving  Strong. 
"  Aren't  you  glad,  Phil,  that  we  jumped  in 
away  up  here  before  the  water  got  such  a 
mixing  up  ? " 

"But  that  isn't  the  most  important  part  of 
it,"  said  Ned,  after  his  companions  had  fin- 
ished their  playful  discussion  of  the  subject. 

"  What  is  it,  then  ?  Go  on,"  said  Irv. 
"  I'm  all  ears,  though  Mrs.  Dupont  always 
thought  I  was  all  tongue.  What  is  the 
most  important  part  of  it,  Ed  ?  " 


THE  WONDERFUL  RIVER'S  WORK    97 

"  Why,  that  this  river  created  most  of  the 
states  it  drains." 

"  How  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"Why,  I  mean  that  but  for  this  great 
river  system  it  would  have  taken  a  hundred 
or  more  years  longer  than  it  did  to  settle 
this  vastest  valley  xm  earth  and  build 
it  up  into  great,  populous  states  that  pro- 
duce the  best  part  of  the  world's  food 
supply." 

"  Go  on,  please,"  said  Will  Moreraud, 
speaking  the  eager  desire  of  all. 

"  You  see,"  said  Ed,  "  in  order  to  settle  a 
country  and  bring  it  into  cultivation,  you 
must  have  some  way  of  getting  into  it,  and 
still  more,  you  must  have  some  way  of  get- 
ting the  things  it  produces  out  of  it,  so  as  to 
sell  them  to  people  that  need  them.  No- 
body would  have  taken  the  trouble  to  raise 
the  produce  we  now  have  on  board  this  boat, 
for  instance,  —  the  hay,  grain,  flour,  apples, 
cornmeal,  onions,  potatoes,  and  the  rest, — 
if  there  had  been  no  way  of  sending  the 
things  away  and  selling  them  somewhere. 
Unless  there  is  a  market  within  reach,  no- 
body will  produce  more  of  anything  than  he 
can  himself  use." 

"Oh,  I  see,"  said  Irv.     "That's  why  I 


98    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

don't  think  more  than  I  do.  I've  no  mar- 
ket for  my  crop  of  thoughts/' 

"  You're  mistaken  there,"  said  Constant, 
who  was  slow  of  speech  and  usually  had 
little  to  say.  "  There's  always  a  market 
for  thoughts." 

"Where?" 

"Right  around  you.  What  did  we  go 
into  this  flatboat  business  for  except  to  be 
with  Ed?  He  can't  do  half  as  much  as  any 
one  of  us  at  an  oar,  or  at  anything  else  ex- 
cept thinking,  and  yet  we  would  never  have 
come  on  this  voyage  —  " 

"  Oh,  dry  up  ! "  said  Ed,  seeing  the  com- 
pliment that  was  impending.  "  I  was  going 
to  say  —  " 

"  And  so  was  I  going  to  say,"  said  Con- 
stant ;  • "  and,  in  fact,  I  am  going  to  say. 
What  I'm  going  to  say  is  that  there  isn't 
a  fellow  here  who  would  be  here  but  for 
you,  Ed.  There  isn't  a  fellow  here  that 
wouldn't  be  glad  to  do  all  of  your  share 
of  the  work,  if  Phil  would  let  him,  just  for 
the  sake  of  hearing  what  you  think.  Any- 
how, that's  why  Constant  Thiebaud  is  a 
member  of  this  crew." 

It  was  the  longest  speech  that  Constant 
Thiebaud  had   ever   been    known  to  make, 


THE  WONDERFUL  RIVER'S  WORK     99 

and  it  was  the  most  effective  one  he  could 
have  made,  because  it  put  into  words  the 
thought  that  was  in  every  one's  mind.  That 
is  the  very  essence  of  oratory  and  of  effec- 
tive writing.  All  the  great  speeches  in  the 
world  have  been  those  that  cleverly  expressed 
the  thought  and  the  feeling  of  those  who 
listened.  All  the  great  books  have  been 
those  that  said  for  the  vast,  dumb  multi- 
tudes that  which  was  in  their  minds  and 
souls  vainly  longing  for  utterance. 

When  Constant  had  finished,  there  was 
silence  for  a  moment.  Then  Irv  Strong 
said  impressively :  — 

"Amen!" 

That  exclamation  ended  the  silence,  and 
expressed  the  common  sentiment  of  all  who 
were  present.  For  even  Jim  Hughes,  who 
was  listening,  had  begun  to  be  interested. 

Ed  was  embarrassed,  of  course,  and  for 
the  first  time  in  his  life  words  completely 
failed  him.  He  sat  up ;  then  he  grasped 
Constant's  hand,  and  said,  "  I  thank  you, 
fellows."  And  with  that  he  retreated  hur- 
riedly to  the  cabin  for  a  little  while. 

Constant  went  to  the  pump,  and  labored 
hard  for  a  time  to  draw  water  from  a  bilge 
that  had  no  leak.     Will  went  to  inspect  the 


ioo    THE    LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

anchor,  as  if  he  feared  that  something  might 
be  the  matter  with  it.  Phil  and  Irving 
jumped  overboard,  and  swam  twice  around 
the  boat. 

Finally,  all  came  on  deck  again,  and  Will 
said :  — 

"  Go  on,  Ed.     We  want  to  hear/' 

Ed  at  once  resumed,  Jim  Hughes  mean- 
time working  with  the  steering-oar. 

"  Well,  this  great  river  gave  the  people 
who  came  over  the  mountains,  and  afterward 
the  people  who  came  up  it  from  New  Or- 
leans, not  only  an  outlet  to  the  sea,  but  a 
sort  of  public  road,  over  which  they  could 
travel  and  trade  with  each  other.  When 
the  upper  Ohio  region  began  to  be  settled, 
a  great  swarm  of  emigrants  from  the  East 
poured  over  the  mountains,  and  made  a 
highway  of  the  river  to  get  themselves  and 
all  that  belonged  to  them  to  the  upper  Mis- 
sissippi, the  lower  Mississippi,  and  the  Mis- 
souri River  country.  My  father  once  told 
me,  before  he  died,  that  in  his  boyhood  you 
could  tell  a  steamboat  bound  from  Pittsburg 
or  Cincinnati  to  St.  Louis  from  any  other 
boat,  because  she  was  red  all  over  with 
ploughs,  wagons,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing. 
Agricultural  implements  were  all  painted  red 


THE  WONDERFUL  RIVER'S  WORK   101 

in  those  days,  and  as  they  weren't  very 
heavy  freight  they  were  bestowed  all  over 
the  boat, — on  the  boiler  deck  guards,  on  the 
hurricane  deck,  and  sometimes  were  in  the 
cabin,  and  on  top  of  the  Texas.1  Now, 
without  these  ploughs,  wagons,  harrows,  and 
so  forth,  how  could  the  pioneers  ever  have 
brought  the  great  Western  country  under 
cultivation  ?  And  without  the  river  how 
could  they  ever  have  got  these  necessary 
implements,  or  themselves,  for  that  matter, 
to  the  regions  where  they  were  needed  ? " 

"  Couldn't  they  have  taken  them  over- 
land ? " 

"  Only  in  a  very  small  and  slow  way. 
There  were  no  railroads,  no  turnpikes,  and 
even  no  dirt  roads  at  that  time.  It  would 
have  cost  ten  times  more  to  take  a  wagon- 
load  of  ploughs  through  the  woods  and 
across  the  prairies,  from  Pittsburg  or  Cincin- 
nati to  Missouri  or  Iowa,  than  the  wagon 
and  the  ploughs  put  together  were  worth 
when  they  got  there.  But  the  river  came  to 
the  rescue.     It  carried  the  people  and   all 

JThe  "Texas**  of  a  western  river  steamer  is  an  extra  cabin,  built 
above  the"  main  cabin  and  under  the  pilot-house,  for  the  accommodation 
of  the  boat's  officers.  It  was  named  "  Texas  "  because  about  the  time 
of  its  naming  Texas  was  added  to  the  Union.  This  cabin  was  also 
something  added.  —  Author. 


102    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

their  belongings  cheaply  and  quickly,  and 
then  it  carried  their  produce  to  New  Or- 
leans ;  and   so   the  great  West  was  settled. 

"  In  the  meantime  the  people  in  Pitts- 
burg, Cincinnati,  and  other  towns  saw  that 
they  could  make  all  the  wagons,  ploughs,  and 
other  things  wanted  by  the  people  further 
west  much  cheaper  than  the  same  things 
could  be  sent  over  the  mountains  from  the 
East.  Thus,  factories  and  foundries  sprang 
up,  new  farms  were  opened  and  new  towns 
built/' 

"Were  there  steamboats  from  the  first?" 
asked  one  of  the  boys. 

"  No ;  when  Vevay  was  settled,  Fulton 
hadn't  yet  built  the  first  steamboat  that  ever 
travelled,  and  when  steamboats  did  appear 
they  were  few  and  small.  Flatboats,  just  like 
this  one,  carried  most  of  the  produce  to  New 
Orleans  ;  but  as  flatboats  couldn't  come  back 
up  the  river,  there  were  a  good  many  keel- 
boats  that  brought  freight  and  passengers  up 
as  well  as  down  stream." 

"  What  are  keelboats  ?  " 

"  Why,  they  were  large  barges  built  with 
a  keel,  a  sharp  bow,  and  a  modelled  stern  — 
in  short,  like  a  steamboat's  hull.  These 
keelboats    floated   down  the  river,   and   the 


THE  WONDERFUL  RIVER'S  WORK   103 

men  then  pushed  them  back  up  stream  with 
long  poles.  When  the  current  was  too 
strong  for  that  they  got  out  on  the  bank  and 
hauled  the  boat  by  ropes.  That  was  called 
c  cordelling.'  The  steamboats  grew,  however, 
in  number  and  size  when  they  came,  and  as 
long  ago  as  1835  there  were  more  than  three 
hundred  of  them  on  the  Mississippi  alone. 
In  1850  there  were  more  than  four  thousand 
on  these  rivers.  They  drove  the  keelboats 
out  of  business,  but  the  flatboats  contin- 
ued because  of  their  cheapness  till  after  the 
Civil  War,  when  the  great  towboats  came 
into  use.  These,  with  their  acres  of  barges, 
could  carry  freight  even  cheaper  than  flat- 
boats  could.  For  a  long  time  the  steamboats 
carried  all  the  passengers,  too,  and  many  of 
them  were  palaces  in  magnificence.  But  the 
railroads  came  at  last  and  took  the  passenger 
business  away,  and  much  of  the  freight  traffic 
also,  because  they  are  faster,  and  still  more 
because  they  don't  have  to  go  so  far  to  get 
anywhere." 

"  Why,  how's  that  ?  I  don't  understand," 
said  Irv. 

"Yes,  you  do,  if  you'll  think  a  bit,"  re- 
sponded Ed. 

"  Couldn't    think   of  thinking.      I'm   too 


104    THE    LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

tired  or  too  lazy  so  tell  me,"  was  Irv's 
rejoinder. 

"  Well,  you  know  the  river  is  crooked,  and 
the  steamboats  must  follow  all  its  windings, 
while  the  railroads  can  run  nearly  straight." 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  said  Irv,  "but  the  crooked- 
ness of  the  river  isn't  enough  to  make  any 
very  great  difference." 

"  Isn't  it  ?  Well,  down  in  Chicot  County, 
Arkansas,  there  is  one  bend  in  the  river  so 
big  that  from  the  upper  landing  on  a  planta- 
tion to  the  lower  landing  on  the  same  plan- 
tation, the  distance  by  river  is  seventeen 
miles,  while  you  can  walk  across  the  neck 
from  one  landing  to  the  other  in  less  than  a 
mile  and  a  half!  " 

"Whew!"  said  Phil.  "And  are  there 
many  such  trips  round  Robin  Hood's  barn 
for  us  to  make  on  the  way  down  ?  " 

"  That's  best  answered  by  telling  you  that 
from  Cairo  to  New  Orleans  the  distance  by 
river  is  about  one  thousand  and  fifty  miles, 
while  by  rail  it  is  a  little  over  four  hundred 
miles.  But  come.  It's  getting  dark,  and 
I've  got  to  bake  some  corn  pones  for  supper, 
so  I  must  quit  lecturing." 


CHAPTER   XIII 

THE    TERROR    OF    THE    RIVER 

For  the  next  few  days  the  voyage  was 
uneventful.  There  was  very  little  to  be 
done  at  the  sweeps  —  only  now  and  then  a 
ten  minutes'  pull  to  keep  the  boat  off  the 
banks  and  in  the  river.  For  the  water  was 
now  so  high  that  there  was  no  such  thing  as 
a  channel  to  be  followed. 

In  many  places  the  stream  had  over- 
flowed its  banks  and  flooded  the  country 
for  miles  inland  on  either  side.  Sometimes 
a  strong  current  would  set  toward  the  points 
where  the  water  was  going  over  the  banks, 
and  a  constant  watchfulness  was  necessary  to 
prevent  the  boat  from  being  drawn  into 
these  currents  and  "going  off  for  a  trip  in 
the  country,"  as  Irv  Strong  expressed  it. 
Whenever  she  manifested  a  disposition  of 
that  kind,  all  hands  worked  hard  at  the 
sweeps  till  she  was  carried  out  of  the  danger. 

During  these  days  Ed  read  a  great  deal, 
and  the  other  boys  read  a  little  and  talked 
105 


106    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

not  a  little.  On  one  or  two  days  there  were 
heavy  all-day  rains,  and  at  such  times  Ed 
would  have  liked  to  remain  in  the  cabin 
when  not  needed  at  the  sweeps,  and  the 
other  boys,  hearing  him  cough  so  frequently, 
pleaded  with  Phil  to  let  him  stay  under 
cover. 

"  We  never  really  need  him  for  rowing," 
said  they,  "  and  he  ought  to  stay  down 
below  all  the  time  when  it's  wet,  for  the 
sake  of  his  health." 

"  That's  just  where  you  differ  in  opinion 
from  the  doctor,"  responded  Phil.  "  He 
says  Fm  to  keep  Ed  in  the  open  air  on 
deck  all  the  time.  Air  is  his  only  medicine, 
the  doctor  insists,  and  Fm  going  to  give 
him  his  medicine,  for  I've  made  up  my 
mind  to  take  him  back  to  Vevay  a  much 
c  weller '  fellow  than  he's  ever  been  before. 
So  on  with  your  rubber  goods,  Ed,  and  out 
with  you  !  " 

"You're  entirely  right,  Phil,"  said  the 
elder  brother.  "And  I'm  much  c  weller,' 
as  you  call  it,  already.  I  don't  cough  so 
much  or  so  hard  as  I  did.  I  sleep  better 
and  eat  better  and  feel  stronger.  I  guess 
I've  been  too  much  taken  care  of." 

"  Oh,  as  to  that,  I  expect  to  make  an  ath- 


THE   TERROR   OF   THE   RIVER     107 

lete  of  you  yet/'  said  Phil.  Then  turning 
to  Irving,  with  moisture  in  his  eyes,  as  Ed 
mounted  to  the  deck,  he  added :  "  I  don't 
know,  Irv,  but  I'm  doing  what  the  doctor 
told  me  was  besto  It  hurts  me,  but  I  do  it 
for  his  sake." 

"  Of  course  you  do.  And  of  course  it's 
best,  too.  Ed  really  is  getting  better.  I've 
watched  him  closely." 

"Have you  ?  "asked  Phil,  eagerly.  "And 
are  you  sure  he's  getting  better  ?  Oh,  are 
you  sure  ?  " 

"Of  course  I  am,"  said  Irv,  beginning  to 
feel  the  necessity  of  lapsing  into  light  chat- 
ter to  escape  an  emotional  crisis.  "  Of 
course  I  am.  Why,  haven't  you  noticed 
that  since  we  ran  out  of  milk  and  sugar  he's 
drunk  his  coffee  clear  like  an  honest  flat- 
boatman  ?  And  haven't  you  noticed  that 
he  rebukes  my  ignorance  and  your  juvenil- 
ity with  a  vigor  that  no  really  ill  fellow 
could  bring  to  bear?  He's  all  right  — 
Look ! "  as  the  two  emerged  on  deck. 
"  He's  actually  trying  to  teach  Jim  Hughes 
how  to  splice  a  rope !  Nobody  but  a  man 
full  of  robust  energy  to  the  bursting  point 
would  ever  try  to  teach  that  dullard  any- 
thing." 


108    THE   LAST   OF  THE   FLATBOATS 

«  He  isn't  a  dullard,"  replied  Phil.  "  He 
shams  all  that,  I  tell  you." 

Irv  didn't  argue  the  point.  He  didn't 
care  anything  about  it.  He  had  accom- 
plished his  purpose.  He  had  diverted  Phil's 
and  his  own  thoughts,  and  prevented  the 
little  emotional  breakdown  that  had  been  so 
imminent. 

Why  is  it  that  boys  are  so  ashamed  of  that 
which  is  best  and  noblest  in  their  natures  ? 

They  were  nearing  Cairo  now,  and  there 
was  no  time  for  further  talk.  With  the  river 
at  its  present  stage,  and  with  a  high  wind 
blowing,  and  a  heavy  rain  almost  blinding 
them,  it  was  not  an  easy  thing  to  get  their 
boat  safely  into  the  pocket  between  Cairo  and 
Mound  City,  amid  the  scores  and  hundreds 
of  coal  barges  that  were  harboring  there. 
For  the  flatboat  even  to  touch  one  of 
the  coal  barges,  unless  very  gently  indeed, 
meant  the  instant  sinking  of  many  hundreds 
of  tons  of  coal,  and  in  all  probability,  the 
loss  of  the  flatboat  also. 

At  one  time  Phil  —  for  he  had  ceased  to 
think  of  Jim  as  a  pilot,  or  even  as  a  person 
who  could  lend  any  but  merely  muscular 
assistance  anywhere  —  was  on  the  point  of 
giving  up  the  idea  of  landing  at  all.     He 


THE   TERROR   OF   THE   RIVER     109 

debated  with  himself  whether  it  would  not 
be  wiser  to  float  on  past  Cairo,  into  the 
Mississippi.  But  the  boat  was  really  very 
short  of  provisions.  The  milk  supply  had 
given  out  two  days  after  passing  the  falls  ; 
their  meal  was  almost  exhausted  ;  their  salt 
had  got  wet ;  they  had  no  butter  left ;  there 
was  only  half  a  pound  of  coffee  in  their  can- 
ister; and  no  flour  whatever  remained. 
There  was  a  little  bacon  in  their  cargo,  and 
there  were  flour,  eggs,  cornmeal,  onions,  and 
potatoes  also.  But  it  was  their  agreed  pur- 
pose not  to  risk  complications  in  their  ac- 
counts by  taking  any  of  their  cargo  for  their 
own  use  except  in  case  of  extreme  necessity. 
"  And  as  for  eggs,"  said  Irv  Strong,  "  I 
fear  that  those  in  our  cargo  are  beginning  to 
be  too  far  removed  from  the  original  source 
of  supply,  —  too  remotely  connected  with 
the  hens  of  Switzerland  County,  Indiana,  as 
it  were,  —  too  —  well,  they  seem  to  me  far 
more  likely  to  give  satisfaction  to  educated 
palates  in  New  Orleans  c  omelettes  with 
onions  '  and  the  like,  than  on  our  frugal 
table.  Besides,  our  cabin  is  rather  small  and 
it  would  be  troublesome  to  have  to  go  up 
on  deck  every  time  the  cook  wanted  to 
break  an  egg." 


no    THE    LAST    OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

"You  forget,  Irv,"  said  Ed,  "we  aren't 
more  than  ten  or  twelve  days  out  yet,  and 
eggs  keep  pretty  well  for  a  much  longer 
time  than  that." 

"True/'  said  Irv;  "but  it  seems  to  me 
that  we've  been  on  the  river  for  a  month. 
At  any  rate,  Phil's  plan  of  not  eating  up 
our  cargo  is  a  good   one." 

Between  Cairo  and  Memphis  lay  about 
two  hundred  and  forty  miles  of  difficult 
river,  and  in  all  that  distance  there  was  not 
a  town  of  any  consequence,  at  least  as  a 
market  in  which  to  buy  boat  stores.  So  the 
necessity  of  landing  at  Cairo  for  supplies 
overrode  all  considerations  of  difficulty  and 
danger  in  the  young  captain's  mind,  and 
after  some  very  hard  work  and  some  narrow 
escapes,  he  succeeded  in  securely  tying  up 
The  Last  of  the  Flatboats  in  the  bend. 

During  their  stay  at  Cairo  Jim  Hughes 
was  again  ill,  afflicted  this  time  with  chills 
and  fever.  But  he  angrily  refused  to  have 
a  doctor  called,  and  as  Ed  could  find  no 
trouble  with  his  pulse  or  temperature,  the 
crew  did  not  insist  upon  summoning  medi- 
cal assistance. 

"  Let's  put  him  ashore  and  be  rid  of  him.," 
suggested  Will  Moreraud. 


THE   TERROR   OF   THE   RIVER     in 

"Yes,  let's  !  "  said  Constant.  "He's  of 
no  use  to  us,  and  he  spoils  the  party  by  his 
presence." 

"No,"  decided  Phil,  "I  wanted  to  put 
him  ashore  at  Craig's  Landing,  but  I've  got 
over  that  desire.  He  interests  me  now  in 
his  way.  I've  discovered  a  good  deal  about 
him,  and  I  mean  to  find  out  more.  He's 
going  somewhere,  and  I  want  to  find  out 
where  it  is.  No,  boys,  we'll  keep  him  on 
board  for  a  while." 

At  Cairo  Phil  bought  a  large  supply  of 
newspapers  from  Chicago,  St.  Louis,  Mem- 
phis, and  New  Orleans.  They  reported 
increasing  floods  in  every  direction.  The 
upper  Mississippi  was  at  a  tremendous  stage. 
The  Missouri  was  pouring  a  vast  flood  into 
it.  The  Tennessee  and  Cumberland  were 
adding  enormously  every  hour  to  the  great 
volume  of  water  that  was  pouring  down  out 
of  the  overflowed  and  still  swelling  Ohio. 
In  short,  one  of  those  great  Mississippi 
floods  was  at  hand  which  come  only  when 
all  the  rivers  —  those  from  north,  west, 
east,  and  south  —  "run  out"  at  the  same 
time. 

The  river  was  full  of  drift ;  great  uprooted 
trees  and  timbers  from  houses  and  barns  that 


ii2    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

had  been  swept  from  their  foundations  and 
reduced  to  wreckage ;  driftwood  from  thou- 
sands of  miles  of  shore.  Flotsam  of  every 
conceivable  kind  covered  the  face  of  the 
waters  so  completely  that  it  looked  as  if  one 
might  almost  walk  across,  stepping  from  one 
floating  mass  to  another. 

And  there  was  a  menace  in  it,  too,  that  was 
ever  present.  The  uprooted  trees  refused 
to  float  steadily.  They  turned  over  and 
over  like  giants  troubled  in  their  sleep  with 
Titanic  nightmares.  They  lashed  their 
wide-reaching  limbs  in  fury,  while  currents 
and  cross-currents  caused  the  floating  stuff 
to  rush  hither  and  thither,  now  piling  it  high 
and  grinding  it  together  with  destructive 
energy,  now  scattering  it  again  and  leaving 
great  water  spaces  clear. 

Now  and  then  a  house  or  a  barn  would 
float  by,  crushed  half  out  of  shape,  but  not 
yet  twisted  into  its  original  materials.  Alto- 
gether the  river  presented  a  spectacle  that 
would  have  inspired  any  old  Greek  poet's 
imagination  to  create  a  dozen  new  gods  and 
a  score  of  hitherto  unknown  demons  to 
serve  as  the  directors  of  it  all. 

So  The  Last  of  the  Flatboats  tarried  in  the 
bend  above  Cairo,  waiting  for  the  worst  of 


THE   TERROR   OF   THE    RIVER     113 

the  drift  to  run  by  before  again  venturing 
upon   the  bosom   of  the   great  flood. 

"  I  say,  Ed,"  said  Phil,  looking  out  upon 
the  vast  waste  of  water  with  its  seething 
surface  of  wreckage,  "  nothing  in  all  that 
you  have  told  us  about  the  river  has  given 
me  so  good  an  idea  of  its  tremendous  power 
as  the  sight  of  that,"  —  waving  his  hand 
toward  the  stream. 

"  Of  course  not,"  replied  the  elder. 
a  Nothing  that  anybody  could  say  in  a 
lifetime  could  equal  that  demonstration  of 
power.  Nobody  that  ever  lived  could  put 
this  wonderful  river  into  words.  I  have  told 
you  fellows  only  of  the  good  it  has  done  — 
only  of  its  beneficence.  You  see  now 
what  power  of  malignity  and  destructive- 
ness  it  has.  This  single  flood  has  already 
destroyed  hundreds  of  lives  and  swept  away 
scores  and  hundreds  of  homes,  and  oblit- 
erated millions  of  dollars'  worth  of  property. 
Before  it  is  over  the  hundreds  in  each  case 
will  be  multiplied  into  thousands.  Even 
now,  right  here  at  Cairo,  a  great  disaster 
impends.  Every  able-bodied  man  in  the 
town  has  been  sent  with  pick  or  shovel  or 
wheelbarrow  to  work  night  and  day  in 
strengthening  and  raising  the  levees.     There 


ii4    THE   LAST   OF   THE    FLATBOATS 

are  ten  thousand  people  in  this  town.  With 
the  Mississippi  on  one  side  and  the  Ohio  on 
the  other,  and  with  their  floods  united  across 
country  above  the  town,  these  helpless  people 
have  nothing  in  the  world  but  an  embank- 
ment of  earth  between  them  and  death. 
Their  homes  lie  from  twenty  to  thirty  feet 
below  the  level  of  the  water  that  surrounds 
them  on  every  side.  And  that  level  is 
rising  every  hour,  every  minute.  It  is 
already  several  inches  above  the  top  of  their 
permanent  levees.  The  flood  is  held  in 
check  only  by  a  temporary  earthwork,  built 
on  top  of  the  permanent  one.  It  is  no 
wonder  that  the  embankments  are  ablaze 
with  torches  and  that  a  thousand  men  are 
working  ceaselessly  by  night  and  by  day  to 
build  the  barriers  higher." 

"  What  if  a  levee  should  break  ?  "  asked 
Will,  in  awe. 

"  Ten  thousand  people  would  be  drowned 
in  ten  minutes,"  answered  Phil,  who  had 
been  studying  the  matter  even  more  closely 
than  Ed  had  done.  "  Cairo  lies  now  in  a 
triangle,  with  the  floods  on  all  three  sides. 
If  the  levee  should  give  way  at  any  point  on 
any  side,  Niagara  itself  would  be  a  mere 
brook  compared  with  the  torrent  that  would 


THE    TERROR   OF   THE    RIVER     115 

rush  into  the  town.  One  of  the  engineers 
said  to  me  to-day  that  the  pressure  upon  the 
levees  at  this  stage  of  water  amounts  to 
thousands  of  millions  of  tons.  Should  there 
be  a  break  at  any  point,  it  would  give  to  all 
this  ocean  of  water  a  sudden  chance  to  fall 
thirty  feet  or  so.  Now  think  what  that 
would  mean  !  The  engineer,  when  I  asked 
him,  answered,  — c  Well,  it  would  mean  that 
in  ten  minutes  the  whole  city  of  Cairo  would 
be  swept  completely  off  the  face  of  the  earth. 
Not  only  would  no  building  be  left  standing 
in  the  town,  but  there  would  be  literally  not 
one  stone  or  brick  left  on  top  of  another. 
Indeed,  the  very  land  on  which  the  city 
stands,  the  entire  point,  would  be  scooped 
out  fifty  feet  below  its  present  level  and  car- 
ried bodily  away  into  the  river.  The  site  of 
the  town  would  lie  far  beneath  the  surface 
of  the  water.'  " 

"  And  all  this  may  happen  at  any  moment 
now  ?  "  asked  Constant. 

"Yes,"  said  Phil.  "But  it  is  not  likely, 
and  brave  men  are  fighting  with  all  their 
might  to  prevent  it.  Let  us  hope  they  will 
succeed." 

"  Why  do  people  live  in  such  a  place  ?  " 
asked  Will. 


n6    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

"  Why  do  men  live  and  plant  vineyards 
high  up  on  the  slopes  of  Vesuvius,  knowing 
all  the  time  the  story  of  what  happened  to 
Herculaneum  and  Pompeii  ?  "  asked  Irv. 

"  It's  sometimes  because  they  must,  be- 
cause they  have  nowhere  else  to  live." 

"  Yes,"  said  Ed,  "  but  it  is  oftener  be- 
cause they  have  the  courage  to  face  danger 
for  the  sake  of  bettering  themselves  or  their 
children  in  one  way  or  another.  Did  it  ever 
occur  to  you  that  all  that  is  worth  while  in 
human  achievement  has  been  accomplished 
by  the  men  who,  for  the  sake  of  an  advan- 
tage of  one  kind  or  another,  were  willing 
to  risk  their  lives,  encounter  danger  in  any 
form,  however  appalling,  endure  hardships 
of  the  most  fearful  character,  and  take  risks 
immeasurable  ?  That  is  the  sort  of  men 
that  in  frail  ships  sailed  over  the  seas  to 
America  and  conquered  and  settled  this 
country,  fighting  Indians  and  fevers  and 
famines  and  all  the  rest  of  it.  It  was  that 
sort  of  men,  —  and  women,  too,  —  for  don't 
forget  that  in  all  those  enterprises  the  women 
risked  as  much  as  the  men  did  and  suffered 
vastly  more,  —  it  was  that  sort  of  men  and 
women  who  pushed  over  the  mountains  and 
built  up    this  great  West   of  ours.       Talk 


THE   TERROR   OF   THE    RIVER     117 

about  the  heroism  of  war !  why,  all  the  wars 
in  all  the  world  never  brought  out  so  much 
of  really  exalted  heroism  as  that  displayed 
by  a  single  company  of  pioneer  emigrants 
from  Virginia  or  North  Carolina,  crossing 
the  mountains  into  Kentucky,  Tennessee,  or 
Indiana." 

"  Then  these  Cairo  people  are  heroes  in 
their  way  ?  "  asked  Irv. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Ed,  "  though  they  don't 
know  it.  Heroes  never  do.  The  hero  is 
the  man  who,  in  pursuit  of  any  worthy  pur- 
pose, —  though  it  be  only  to  make  more 
money  for  the  support  of  his  family, — 
calmly  faces  the  risks,  endures  the  hardships, 
and  performs  the  tasks  that  fall  to  his  lot. 
The  highest  courage  imaginable  is  that 
which  prompts  a  man  to  do  his  duty  as  he 
understands  it,  with  absolute  disregard  of 
consequences  to  himself." 

That  night  Phil  read  his  newspapers  very 
diligently.  Especially,  he  studied  the  por- 
traits and  the  minute  descriptions  given  of 
the  man  who  was  "  carrying "  the  proceeds 
of  the  great  bank  robbery.  Somehow,  Phil 
was  becoming  more  and  more  deeply  in- 
terested in  that  subject. 


CHAPTER   XIV 

IN    THE    HOME    OF    THE    EARTHQUAKES 

One  night  soon  after  The  Last  of  the  Flat- 
boats  left  Cairo,  Phil's  compass  showed  that 
the  Mississippi  River,  whose  business  it  was 
to  run  toward  the  south,  was  in  fact  run- 
ning due  north.  Phil  recognized  this  as 
one  of  the  vagaries  of  the  wonderful  river. 
Consulting  his  map,  he  found  that  the 
river  knew  its  business,  that  the  boat  was 
in  New  Madrid  Bend,  where  for  a  space 
the  strangely  erratic  river  runs  north,  only 
to  turn  again  to  its  southerly  course,  after 
having  asserted  its  liberty  by  running  in 
a  contrary  direction  as  it  does  at  Cairo, 
where  a  line  drawn  due  north  from  the 
southerly  point  of  Illinois  cuts  through  a 
part  of  Kentucky,  a  state  lying  to  the  south 
of  Illinois.  No  ordinary  map  shows  this, 
but  it  is  nevertheless  true.  Illinois  ends  in 
a  hook,  which  extends  so  far  south  and  so 
far  east  as  to  bring  a  part  of  Illinois  to  the 
southward  of  Kentucky. 
•    118 


HOME    OF   THE    EARTHQUAKES     119 

Phil  had  fully  grasped  this  fact.  He  had 
reconciled  himself  to  the  eccentricities  of  the 
wonderful  river,  and  was  entirely  content  to 
float  northward,  so  long  as  that  seemed  to 
be  the  river's  will. 

But  about  midnight  there  came  a  disturb- 
ance. First  of  all  there  was  a  great  roar,  as 
of  artillery  or  Titanic  trains  of  cars  somewhere 
in  the  centre  of  the  earth.  Then  there  were 
severe  blows  upon  the  bottom  of  the  flat- 
boat,  blows  that  threatened  to  break  its 
gunwales  in  two.  Then  three  great  waves 
came  up  the  river,  curling  over  the  flat- 
boat's  bow  and  pouring  their  floods  into  her 
hold,  as  if  to  swamp  her.  Then  the  boat 
swung  around,  changed  her  direction,  and 
for  a  time  ran  up  the  stream,  while  waves 
threatened  at  every  moment  to  overwhelm 
her. 

Phil,  who  was  on  watch  at  the  time,  ran 
to  the  scuttle  to  call  his  comrades,  but  there 
was  no  occasion.  The  tremendous  thumps 
on  the  bottom  of  the  boat  and  the  swaying 
of  everything  backward  and  forward  had 
awakened  them,  and,  half  clad,  they  were 
rushing  on  deck. 

Just  then  the  boat  struck  upon  a  shore 
bar   and  went   hard   aground.     The   water 


iio    THE   LAST   OF   THE    FLATBOATS 

that  had  come  in  over  her  bow  had  more 
than  filled  the  bilge;  but  how  far  the  dis- 
turbance had  made  the  boat  leak,  Phil  could 
not  find  out,  for  she  was  now  resting  upon 
a  sandbank  near  the  shore,  and  of  course, 
supported  as  she  was  by  the  river  bottom, 
she  could  not  settle  farther.  So  Phil  or- 
dered all  hands  to  the  pumps,  in  order  to 
get  out  the  wave  water,  and  to  find  out  as 
soon  as  she  should  float  again  what  water 
there  might  be  coming  in  through  leaks 
caused  by  the  disturbance  just  experienced. 

A  little  pumping  showed  that  the  boat 
was  not  leaking  seriously.  The  water  in 
the  hold  went  down  in  about  the  same  pro- 
portion that  the  pumps  poured  it  out,  thus 
showing  that  no  additional  supply  was  com- 
ing in  anywhere. 

In  half  an  hour  the  pumps  ceased  to 
"  draw."  That  is  to  say,  no  water  came  out 
in  response  to  their  activity.  But  the  flat- 
boat  was  still  aground. 

"Never  mind  about  that,"  said  Irv  Strong. 
"  The  river  is  still  rising  rapidly,  and  it  will 
soon  float  us." 

"  Yes,"  answered  Phil,  "  if  we  are  on  a 
level  bar  and  if  the  boat  has  undergone  no 
strain.     You  see  as  long  as  we  have  bottom 


HOME    OF   THE   EARTHQUAKES     121 

under  us,  we  shan't  leak  to  any  serious 
extent.  But  when  we  float  again,  the  great 
weight  of  our  cargo  will  make  every  open 
seam  admit  water  to  its  full  capacity." 

"Of  course,"  said  Irv.  "  But  what  makes 
you  think  there  are  any  open  seams  ? " 

"  Nothing,"  answered  Phil,  "  except  a 
general  impulse  of  precaution.  We  went 
aground  very  easily.  In  fact,  I  didn't  know 
we  were  aground  till  I  saw  the  water  flowing 
by,  and  by  the  way,  it  is  running  up 
stream  !  "  As  he  said  this  he  leaned  over 
the    side  and  observed  the  water   carefully. 

The  other  boys  joined  him  and  observed 
the  same  phenomenon,  largely  in  wonder, 
but  almost  half  in  fright.  The  Mississippi 
River  was  unquestionably  running  the  wrong 
way,  and  that,  too,  when  a  great  flood  was 
pouring  down  it  and  seeking  its  way  to  the 
sea. 

"What  does  it  all  mean,  Ed?"  asked 
Will  Moreraud.  "  Tell  us  about  it,  for  of 
course  you  know." 

"  I  don't  know  whether  I  know  or  not," 
responded  Ed,  with  more  of  hesitation  than 
was  usual  in  his  tone.  "  I  think  we  have 
had  a  small  earthquake.  We  are  in  the 
midst  of  a  region  of  small  earthquakes.    We 


122    THE    LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

are  in  New  Madrid  Bend,  and  for  the  best 
part  of  a  century  that  has  been  a  sort  of 
earthquake  nest." 

"  The  river  is  running  down  stream 
again/'  called  out  Constant,  "and  we  are 
beginning  to  float,  too." 

"  So  we  are,"  said  Irv  Strong,  going  to 
the  side  and  inspecting.  "  Let's  go  below 
and  find  out  whether  or  not  we're  leaking." 

The  suggestion  was  a  timely  one.  Phil 
indeed  had  anticipated  it,  and  when  his  com- 
rades went  below  they  found  him  there  with 
a  lantern,  minutely  inspecting  every  point 
where  incoming  water  might  be  looked 
for. 

Their  search  clearly  revealed  the  fact  that 
the  flatboat  —  which  was  now  again  floating 
down  the  stream  —  was  not  leaking  more 
than  she  did  ordinarily,  not  so  much  that  a 
few  minutes'  pumping  now  and  then  could 
not  keep  her  bilge  empty. 

Having  satisfied  themselves  of  the  boat's 
safety,  the  boys  returned  to  the  deck,  and 
renewed  their  demands  upon  Ed  for  an 
explanation. 

"  Well,  you  see,"  said  Ed, "  we're  in  New 
Madrid  Bend.  Now,  as  I  said  a  while  ago, 
for  the  best  part  of  a  century,  and  probably 


HOME    OF   THE    EARTHQUAKES     123 

for  all  the  centuries  before  that,  this  region 
has  been  the  home  of  earthquakes,  not  very 
great  ones,  but  such  as  we  have  just  experi- 
enced. Along  about  1 8 1 1  and  1 8 1 2  it  was 
distressed  with  much  severer  ones  in  an 
uncommon  degree.  We  have  just  had  the 
Mississippi  River  running  up  stream  for  five 
or  ten  minutes  as  a  result  of  one  of  these 
disturbances.  In  181 1  it  ran  up  stream  for 
three  full  days  and  nights.  Great  fissures 
were  opened  in  the  earth  all  over  the  country 
round  about,  and  as  they  always,  or  at  least 
generally,  ran  north  and  south,  the  settlers 
used  to  fell  trees  east  and  west,  and  build 
their  cabins  upon  them,  so  that  they  might 
not  be  swallowed  up  by  the  earthquakes/' 

"Why  didn't  they  run  away  from  so 
appalling  a  danger  ? "  asked  Irv  Strong. 

"  Because  they  were  pioneers,"  answered 
Ed,  "  because  they  were  the  sort  of  heroes 
we  were  talking  about  at  Cairo,  men  who 
took  all  the  risks  that  might  come  to  them 
in  order  that  they  might  secure  advantages 
to  themselves  and  their  children.  Men  of 
that  sort  do  not  run  away  from  earthquakes, 
any  more  than  they  run  away  from  Indians, 
or  fevers,  or  floods,  or  any  other  dangers. 
And   by  the  way,   these    same    people   had 


i*4    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

Indians  to  contend  with,  in  their  very  ugliest 
moods." 

"  How  so  ? "  asked  two  of  the  boys  at 
once. 

"  Why,  in  the  time  of  the  great  earth- 
quakes, all  of  Western  Tennessee  and  Ken- 
tucky, and  the  greater  part  of  Mississippi, 
Georgia,  and  Alabama  were  inhabited  by 
savage.  Choctaws,  Cherokees,  Creeks,  and 
other  hostile  tribes.  At  that  time  the  great 
Indiana  chief,  Tecumseh,  conceived  his  plan 
of  uniting  all  the  tribes  from  Indiana  — 
then  a  part  of  the  Northwest  Territory  —  to 
Mississippi,  Alabama,  Georgia,  North  Caro- 
lina, and  Florida,  in  a  league  for  determined 
resistance  to  the  westward  advance  of  the 
whites. 

"It  was  an  opportune  time,  for  a  little  later 
the  British,  being  at  war  with  us,  came  to 
Florida  and  undertook  to  form  an  offensive 
and  defensive  alliance  with  the  Indians, 
whom  they  supplied  with  guns  and  ammu- 
nition, for  the  destruction  of  the  United 
States.  And  but  for  Jackson's  superb  war 
against  the  Creeks,  and  later  his  victory  at 
New  Orleans,  they  would  have  succeeded  in 
spliting  this  country  in  two. 

"  When  Tecumseh  went  south  to  secure 


HOME   OF   THE    EARTHQUAKES     125 

the  cooperation  of  the  Creeks,  Choctaws, 
and  Seminoles  in  this  plan  for  the  destruc- 
tion of  our  country,  he  told  the  Muscogees 
that  on  his  return  to  the  north  he  would 
c  stamp  his  foot '  and  they  would  feel  the 
earth  tremble. 

"  The  New  Madrid  earthquakes  of  1 8 1 1 
and  1 8 12,  which  extended  into  Alabama  and 
Georgia,  came  just  in  time  to  fulfil  this 
prophetic  threat,  and  there  is  no  doubt  that 
they  played  a  great  part  in  provoking  the 
most  dangerous  Indian  war  this  country 
ever  knew  —  the  most  dangerous  because, 
before  it  was  over,  there  came  to  our  shores 
a  great  British  army,  the  flower  of  English 
soldiery,  under  command  of  Pakenham, 
Wellington's  most  trusted  lieutenant  —  to 
capture  New  Orleans  and  secure  control  of 
our  wonderful  river,  and  all  the  region  west 
of  it." 

"And  why  didn't  they  do  it?"  asked 
Will  Moreraud. 

"  Because  of  Andrew  Jackson,"  answered 
Ed.  "  He  went  to  New  Orleans  to  meet 
them.  He  had  no  army,  but  he  created  one 
mostly  in  a  single  afternoon.  His  only 
experienced  troops  were  three  hundred  Ten- 
nessee volunteers  under  Coffee,  one  of  his 


126    THE    LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

old  Indian  fighters.  But  he  had  some  back- 
woods volunteers,  and  he  enlisted  all  the  mer- 
chants he  could  in  New  Orleans,  and  all  their 
clerks,  all  the  ragamuffins  of  the  city,  all  the 
wharf  rats,  and  all  the  free  negroes  there, 
and  armed  them  as  best  he  could.  Half  of 
Pakenham's  force  had  moved  from  Lake 
Borgue  to  a  point  a  few  miles  below  the 
city.  Without  waiting  for  a  force  fit  to 
fight  them  with,  Jackson  cried  c  Forward  * 
to  his  motley  collection  of  men,  and  on  the 
night  of  December  23,  18 14,  he  attacked 
the  great  veteran  English  army  in  the  dark. 
It  was  a  fearful  fight,  and  the  vigor  of  it 
and  its  insolence  as  a  military  operation  so 
appalled  the  British,  that  they  waited  for 
more  than  two  weeks  for  the  rest  of  their 
forces  to  come  up  before  trying  again  to 
capture  the  city,  —  a  thing  which  they  had 
intended  to  do  the  next  morning  without 
the  loss  of  a  man.  In  the  meantime,  Jack- 
son had  fortified  himself,  and  reinforcements 
had  come  to  him,  so  that  when  the  British 
were  at  last  ready,  on  the  8th  of  January, 
1 815,  to  advance  to  what  they  still  expected 
to  be  the  easy  conquest  of  the  city,  they 
were  c  licked  out  of  their  boots/  That,  in 
brief,   is   the  story   of  the   battle   which  for 


HOME    OF   THE   EARTHQUAKES     127 

the  second  time  decided  American  indepen- 
dence. For  the  British  in  the  War  of  1812- 
14  had  nothing  less  in  view  than  the  re- 
conquest  of  our  country,  and  the  restoration 
of  the  states  to  the  condition  and  status  of 
British  colonies." 

"  But  how  about  the  earthquakes  ?  "  asked 
Irv ;  "  why  is  this  region  subject  to  them 
more  than  others  ?  " 

"  I'm  not  sure  that  I  know,"  said  Ed. 
"  But  countries  in  the  neighborhood  of  vol- 
canoes are  usually  either  peculiarly  subject 
to  earthquakes  or  especially  exempt  from 
them.  It  seems  that  sometimes  the  vol- 
canoes act  as  safety  valves,  while  sometimes 
they  don't  work  in  that  way  till  after  the 
region  round  about  has  been  greatly  shaken 
up,  preparatory  to  an  eruption." 

"  But  what  have  volcanoes  got  to  do  with 
New  Madrid  Bend  ?  "  asked  Phil.  "  There 
aren't  any  volcanoes  in  the  United  States." 

"  No,"  said  Ed,  thoughtfully  ;  "  but  there 
are  some  hot  springs  over  in  Arkansas,  not 
very  far  from  here,  and  they  are  volcanic 
of  course  in  their  origin  and  character.  Per- 
haps if  the  Arkansas  hot  springs  were  a 
robust  volcano,  instead  of  being  what  they 
are,  there  would  not  be  so  many  earthquakes 


Y 


128    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

in  this  part  of  the  country.  If  they  threw 
out  stones  and  lava  and  let  off  steam  gen- 
erally as  Vesuvius  and  Etna  and  the  others 
do,  perhaps  this  part  of  the  country  wouldn't 
have  so  many  agues." 

Just  then  the  boat  heeled  over,  the  river 
was  broken  into  great  waves  again,  and  all 
creation  seemed  to  be  see-sawing  north  and 
south.  Phil  called  the  boys  to  the  sweeps, 
as  a  matter  of  precaution,  but  the  boat  was 
helpless  in  the  raging  river.  She  was  driven 
ashore  again ;  that  is  to  say,  she  was  driven 
over  the  brink  of  a  submerged  river  bank, 
where  she  stuck  securely  in  the  mud. 

This  second  earthquake  did  not  last  more 
than  thirty  or  forty  seconds,  but  that  was 
long  enough  to  get  The  Last  of  the  Flatboats 
into  the  worst  trouble  that  she  had  yet 
encountered.  She  seemed  to  be  bending 
in  the  middle  as  if  resting  upon  a  fallen  tree 
with  both  ends  free. 

Phil  quickly  manned  the  skiffs  and  insti- 
tuted an  inspection.  By  the  use  of  poles 
and  lead  lines  he  soon  discovered  that  two- 
thirds  of  the  boat's  length  lay  upon  a 
reasonably  level  bank,  the  remaining  third 
overhanging  it.  It  was  this  that  was  bend- 
ing her  so  dangerously. 


HOME    OF   THE   EARTHQUAKES     129 

"  Get  inside,  boys,  quick,"  he  called  to  his 
comrades.  "  The  boat's  bow  overhangs  the 
bank.  We  must  get  all  the  freight  out  of 
it  as  quickly  as  possible." 

Then  in  brief  sentences  he  gave  his  com- 
mands. 

"  Roll  those  apple  barrels  into  the  cabin  ! 
Carry  those  bags  of  meal  on  deck  and  well 
astern !  Take  the  anchor  there,  too ! 
Lighten  the  bow  all  you  can  ! " 

The  boys  worked  like  beavers,  and  after  a 
while  the  entire  forward  part  of  the  boat  was 
free  of  freight.  The  cabin  as  a  consequence 
was  full,  and  the  deck  so  piled  up  with  bags 
and  barrels  that  ordinary  navigation  would 
have  been  impossible.  But  at  any  rate,  the 
danger  of  breaking  the  boat  in  two  was 
averted. 

Phil  then  got  into  a  skiff  with  Irv,  and 
armed  with  some  lanterns,  went  carefully  all 
around  the  boat,  measuring  depths  and  look- 
ing for  possibly  open  seams  or  other  dam- 
age. When  he  returned  to  the  deck  he 
reported :  — 

"  We  are  lying  in  about  six  inches  of 
Missouri  mud  with  two  and  a  half  feet  of 
water  above  it,  trespassing  to  that  extent 
upon    somebody's   farm.      But    the    reports 


1 3o    THE    LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

from  up  the  rivers  when  we  were  at  Cairo 
were  that  at  least  twelve  inches  more  water 
might  be  expected  within  forty-eight  hours, 
and  as  it  is  raining  like  Noah's  flood  now, 
and  we  only  need  a  few  inches  of  water  to 
set  us  free,  we'll  be  afloat  again  by  morning 
if  we  don't  have  another  earthquake  to  send 
us  still  farther  out  into  the  country."  • 

The  event  justified  Phil's  prediction. 
About  five  o'clock  in  the  morning  the  flat- 
boat  floated  again,  and  with  a  few  vigorous 
strokes  of  the  sweeps  she  was  sent  out  into 
the  middle  of  the  river.  Then  Phil  gave 
orders  for  the  restoration  of  the  freight  to 
its  proper  place.  Not  until  that  was  done 
was  it  possible  to  get  breakfast,  for  the  cabin 
had  been  piled  full  of  freight,  and  when  it 
was  done,  Phil  devoted  himself  for  an  hour 
or  more,  before  he  would  eat,  to  an  inspec- 
tion of  the  boat.  He  found  and  stopped  a 
few  leaks  that  had  been  made  by  the  strain, 
which  had  caused  the  oakum  to  loosen  in 
the  seams. 

The  rain  continuing,  the  boys  had  a  dull 
day  of  it,  but  at  any  rate  their  boat  was  in  - 
good  condition,  and  was  now  again  floating 
down  stream  toward  her  destination. 


CHAPTER   XV 


IN    THE    CHUTE 


Below  New  Madrid  the  swollen  river 
was  so  full  that  only  the  line  of  trees  on 
either  side  indicated  its  borders.  In  many 
places  it  had  so  completely  overflowed  its 
banks  that  it  was  forty  or  fifty  miles  wide  in 
fact.  In  other  places,  where  the  banks  were 
high,  the  river  was  confined  for  brief  spaces 
within  its  natural  limits,  and  rushed  forward 
with  the  speed  of  water  in  a  mill-race. 

The  driftwood  had  by  this  time  largely 
run  out,  and  while  there  was  still  much  of 
it  in  the  river,  its  presence  no  longer  in- 
volved any  particular  danger.  Still,  it  was 
necessary  to  observe  it ;  and  it  was  especially 
necessary  to  keep  a  close  watch  on  the  boat's 
course,  lest  she  should  be  drawn  into  some 
bayou  or  pocket,  where  danger  would  im- 
pend. 

Nevertheless,  the  boys  had  considerable 
leisure,  and  Ed  devoted  a  good  deal  of  the 
time,  at  their  request,  to  expounding  to 
131 


i32    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

them  all  the  lore  that  he  had  gathered  from 
his  books.  One  day  he  brought  out  his 
map  again,  and  got  them  interested  in  it 
until  they  lost  sight  of  other  things  around 
them.  For  that  matter,  Jim  Hughes  was 
on  the  steering-bridge,  and  was  supposed  to 
be  directing  the  course  of  the  boat.  It  was 
his  duty,  of  course,  to  call  attention  to  any- 
thing that  might  need  attention ;  so  the 
boys  allowed  themselves  to  become  absorbed 
in  Ed's  explanations  and  in  their  own  study 
of  the  map. 

It  was  about  sunset  when  Phil  raised  him- 
self and  took  a  look  ahead.  He  suddenly 
sprang  to  his  feet  and  called  out  hurriedly, 
but  not  excitedly,  "  Starboard  sweep,  boys." 

He  himself  ran  to  the  steering-oar,  and, 
in  spite  of  some  remonstrance  from  the 
pilot,  took  possession  of  it. 

"What  are  you  doing,  Jim,"  he  called 
out,  "  running  us  into  this  chute  ?  Give  it 
to  her,  boys,  with  all  your  might." 

But  it  was  of  no  use.  It  was  too  late. 
The  boat  had  already  been  driven  into  the 
chute  behind  an  island,  and  must  now  go 
through  it.  Jim  Hughes  had  successfully 
managed  that. 

A  chute  is  that  part  of  the  river  which 


IN   THE   CHUTE  133 

lies  between  an  island  and  the  shore  nearest 
to  it.  At  low  water,  the  chutes  in  the  Mis- 
sissippi are  not  usually  navigable  at  all.  But 
when  the  river  is  high,  they  are  deep  enough 
and  wide  enough  for  a  steamboat  to  pass 
through ;  and,  as  passing  through  the  chute 
usually  saves  many  miles  of  distance  against  a 
strong  current,  the  steamboats  going  up  the 
stream  always  "run  the  chute,,  when  they  can. 
But  as  these  chutes  are  rarely  wide  enough, 
even  in  the  highest  water,  for  two  boats  to 
pass  each  other  safely  within  them,  the  law 
forbids  boats  going  down  the  river  to  run 
them  at  all. 

Phil  had  been  instructed  in  all  this  by 
Perry  Raymond,  and  he  was  therefore  much 
disturbed  when  he  found  the  flatboat  hope- 
lessly involved  in  the  head  of  the  chute. 

He  explained  in  short,  crisp,  snappy  sen- 
tences to  his  fellows  the  violation  of  law 
they  were  committing,  and  the  danger  there 
was  of  snags,  fallen  trees  and  other  obstruc- 
tions, in  running  the  chute  under  the  most 
favorable  circumstances. 

But  he  was  in  for  it  now,  and  there  was 
only  one  thing  to  be  done.  Go  through 
the  chute  he  must.  The  problem  was  to 
get  through  it  as  quickly  and  as  safely  as 


1 


i34    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

possible.  If  he  could  get  through  it  with- 
out meeting  any  up-coming  steamer  and 
without  running  the  boat  afoul  of  any  snags 
or  other  obstructions,  all  would  be  well 
enough,  except  that  it  would  still  leave  Jim 
Hughes's  action  unexplained  and  puzzling. 
Should  he  meet  a  steamboat  in  the  narrow 
passage,  he  must  take  the  consequences, 
whatever  they  might  happen  to  be.  He 
kept  the  boys  continually  at  the  sweeps,  in 
order  to  give  him  good  steerage  way ;  and 
earnestly  adjured  them  to  be  alert,  and  to 
act  instantly  on  any  order  he  might  give,  to 
all  of  which  they  responded  with  enthusiasm. 
"  How  long  is  this  chute,  Jim  ? " 
"  How  do  I  know  ?  "  answered  that  wor- 
thy, or  more  properly,  that  unworthy. 

u  I  thought  you  knew  the  river.  You 
shipped  as  a  pilot,"  said  the  boy.  "  Hard 
on  the  starboard,  boys ;  hard  on  the  star- 
board !  There,  that'll  do.  Let  her  float 
now  ! " 

Then  turning  to  Jim,  he  said  again :  — 
"  You  shipped  as  a  pilot.  You  pretended 
to  know  the  river.  Probably  you  do  know 
it  better  than  you  now  pretend.  You  delib- 
erately ran  us  into  this  channel.  You  did 
it  on  purpose.     You  must  know  the  chute 


IN   THE    CHUTE  135 

then.  What  did  you  do  it  for  ?  What  do 
you  mean  by  it  ?  " 

"Yes,  I  shipped  as  a  pilot/'  answered 
the  surly  fellow,  "but  I  shipped  without 
pay,  you  will  remember.  I  was  careful  to 
assume  no  obligation  for  which  I  could  be 
held  responsible  in  law." 

Phil  started  back  in  amazement.  Neither 
the  sentence  nor  the  assured  forethought 
that  lay  behind  it  fitted  at  all  the  character 
of  the  ignorant  lout  that  the  man  who  spoke 
had  pretended  to  be.  Phil  now  clearly  saw 
that  all  this  man's  pretences  had  been  falsey 
that  his  character  and  his  personality  had 
been  assumed,  and  that,  for  some  purpose 
known  only  to  himself,  the  fellow  had  been 
deceiving  him  from  the  start.  Not  alto- 
gether deceiving  him,  however,  for  Phil's 
suspicions  had  already  been  so  far  aroused 
that  it  could  not  be  said  that  he  had  been 
hoodwinked  completely.  But  for  these  sus- 
picions, indeed,  he  would  not  now  so  readily 
have  observed  the  man's  speech  and  be- 
havior. He  would  not  so  accurately  have 
interpreted  his  truculence  when  he  com- 
manded him  to  "go  to  a  sweep,"  and  the 
man  answered,  "  Not  if  I  know  it !  "  and 
went  to  the  cabin  instead. 


136    THE   LAST   OF   THE    FLATBOATS 

But  at  that  moment  Phil  had  no  time  to 
deal  further  with  the  fellow,  or  even  to  think 
of  him.  For  just  as  dark  was  falling,  the 
flatboat  swung  around  a  sharp  bend  in  the 
chute,  and  came  suddenly  face  to  face  with  a 
great,  roaring,  glaring,  glittering  steamboat 
that  was  running  the  chute  up  stream  at 
racing  speed. 

The  steamboat  whistled  madly,  and  re- 
versed her  engines  full  force.  The  captain, 
the  pilot,  both  the  mates,  all  the  deck-hands, 
all  the  roustabouts,  and  most  of  the  male 
passengers  on  board  shouted  in  chorus,  with 
much  of  objurgation  for  punctuation  marks,  to 
know  what  the  flatboat  meant  by  running 
the  chute  down  stream. 

Phil  paid  no  attention  to  the  hullabaloo, 
but  gave  his  whole  mind  to  the  problem  of 
navigating  his  own  craft.  The  steamboat's 
wheels,  as  she  backed  water  so  mightily, 
threw  forward  great  waves  which,  catching 
the  flatboat  under  the  bow,  drove  her  stern- 
on  toward  the  bank.  By  a  vigorous  use  of 
the  sweeps,  and  a  great  deal  of  tugging  on 
his  own  part  at  the  steering-oar,  Phil  man- 
aged to  slew  the  boat  around  in  time  to  pre- 
vent her  going  ashore ;  and  fortunately 
there  was  just  passageway  enough  to  let  her 


IN   THE    CHUTE  137 

slip  by  the  steamer,  grazing  the  guards  in 
passing. 

It  was  the  work  of  a  very  few  minutes, 
but  it  seemed  an  age  to  the  anxious  boy ; 
and  as  the  steamer  resumed  her  course,  her 
crew  sending  back  a  volley  of  maledictions, 
his  only  thought  was  one  of  congratulation 
that  he  had  escaped  from  so  desperate  an 
entanglement. 

Just  then,  however,  he  observed  Jim 
Hughes  at  the  stern,  climbing  into  the 
towed  skiff,  into  which  he  had  already 
thrown  his  carpet-bag.  He  observed  also 
that  before  engaging  in  this  manoeuvre  the 
pilot  had  set  up  a  handkerchief  at  the  bow, 
apparently  as  a  signal,  and  that  some  rough- 
looking  men  were  gathered  on  the  shore 
just  astern. 

Quick  as  a  flash  Phil  realized  that  for 
some  reason  Jim  Hughes  was  quitting  the 
boat,  and  was  in  communication  with  the 
men  on  shore. 

Without  quite  realizing  why  he  should 
object  to  this,  he  proceeded  to  put  a  stop  to 
it.  He  called  to  his  comrades,  who  could 
now  leave  the  oars,  as  the  boat  was  floating 
out  of  the  chute  and  into  the  main  river 
again,  to  come  to  his  assistance.     Without 


138    THE    LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

parley  they  tumbled  over  the  end  of  the 
boat  into  the  skiff,  which  had  not  yet  been 
cast  loose,  and  there  seized  the  runaway. 
He  fought  with  a  good  deal  of  desperation, 
but  five  stalwart  Hoosier  boys  are  apt  to  be 
more  than  a  match  for  any  one  man,  how- 
ever strong  and  however  desperate  he  may 
be.  They  quickly  overcame  Jim  Hughes 
and  hustled  him  back  on  board  the  flatboat. 
There  they  held  him  down,  while  one  of 
them,  at  Phil's  request,  ran  for  some  rope. 
A  minute  later  they  had  their  prisoner  se- 
curely tied,  both  as  to  arms  and  as  to  legs,  and 
dropped  him,  feet  first,  down  the  cabin  stairs. 
No  sooner  was  he  out  of  the  way  than  the 
men  on  shore  began  firing  at  the  flatboat. 
They  had  refrained  prior  to  that  time,  appar- 
ently, lest  they  should  hit  their  comrade,  for 
such  he  manifestly  was.  Their  firing  was  at 
long  range,  however,  and  it  was  now  nearly 
dark.  The  swift  current  soon  carried  the 
boat  wholly  beyond  reach  of  rifle-shots  and 
out  into  the  river.  Lest  the  desperadoes  on 
shore  should  follow  in  skiffs  or  otherwise, 
Phil  ordered  the  boys  to  the  sweeps  again, 
and  kept  them  there  until  they  had  driven 
the  boat  well  over  toward  the  opposite  shore. 
Then  he  summoned  a  council  of  war. 


THE    FIGHT   WITH    THE    PILOT. 
"A  minute  later  they  had  their  prisoner  securely  tied.' 


IN    THE    CHUTE  139 

"  What  are  we  going  to  do  with  that 
fellow  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Well,"  said  Ed,  "  you  have  got  him 
well  tied  and — " 

"Yes,  but,"  said  Irv,  "have  we  any  right 
to  tie  him  ?  He  hasn't  committed  any 
crime." 

"  Yes,  he  has,"  said  Phil.  "  At  least,  we 
caught  him  in  the  act  of  committing  one. 
He  was  trying  to  steal  one  of  Perry  Ray- 
mond's skiffs.  That's  worth  twenty-five 
dollars.  If  he  hadn't  anything  worse  in  his 
mind,  his  attempt  on  the  skiff  was  grand 
larceny." 

"  That's  so,"  said  Ed,  "  and  we  can  turn 
him  over  to  a  magistrate  at  the  first  landing 
for  that." 

"  I  don't  think  I  shall  make  any  landing," 
said  Phil,  "  until  we  get  to  Memphis,  and  in 
the  meantime  I  am  going  to  know  all  there 
is  to  know  about  this  fellow.  When  he 
came  on  board  he  had  his  hair  shaved  close 
with  a  barber's  mowing-machine,  but,  un- 
fortunately for  him,  he  didn't  bring  one  of 
the  machines  with  him.  His  hair  is  grow- 
ing out  again  now,  and  I  have  been  compar- 
ing several  of  its  little  peculiarities  closely 
with  descriptions  and  portraits  in  the  news- 


l4o    THE   LAST   OF   THE    FLATBOATS 

papers  I  got  at  Cairo  of  the  fellow  who  is 
running  away  with  that  swag.  Boys,  I 
believe  we  have  got  the  man." 

Phil's  comrades  were  positively  dumb 
with  astonishment.  At  last  the  silence  was 
broken. 

"  If  we  have/'  said  Irv  Strong,  "  this 
voyage  will  pay,  for  the  rewards  offered  for 
this  man  are  very  heavy." 

"Yes,"  said  Phil;  "I  hadn't  thought  of 
that,  but  that's  so.  There  are  five  thousand 
dollars  on  his  capture." 

Just  then  there  was  a  flash  in  the  dark 
from  the  cabin  scuttle,  and  a  bullet  whistled 
over  the  heads  of  the  boys.  Jim  Hughes 
had  managed  to  extricate  himself,  in  part  at 
least,  from  his  bonds,  and  had  begun  to  use 
a  weapon  which  he  had  doubtless  hidden 
before  that  time,  and  of  which  the  boys  had 
known  nothing. 

Ed  was  the  first  to  act.  He  was  always 
exceedingly  quick  to  think.  He  called  to 
the  boys  to  follow  him,  and,  disregarding 
Jim's  fusilade,  ran  to  the  scuttle. 

In  an  instant,  by  their  united  efforts,  they 
pushed  the  fellow  back  and  closed  the  lid 
that  covered  the  stairs.  Then  Ed  remem- 
bered that  there  was  a  door  leading  out  of 


IN   THE   CHUTE  141 

the  cabin  into  the  hold  of  the  boat.  He 
suggested  to  two  of  the  boys  that  they  go 
below,  and  close  that  with  bales  of  hay  and 
the  like.  They  did  so  hurriedly,  piling  the 
hay  and  some  apple  barrels  against  the  door, 
until  it  would  have  required  the  strength  of 
half  a  dozen  men  to  push  it  open.  In  the 
meantime  Ed  had  possessed  himself  of  a 
hatchet  and  nails,  and  had  securely  nailed 
down  the  scuttle. 

Just  then  Irv  Strong  thought  of  some- 
thing. 

"  Suppose  he  gets  desperate  ?  He  could 
easily  set  fire  to  things  down  there." 

"That's  so,"  said  Phil,  who  had  just 
returned  from  the  hold.  "  Bring  the  fire- 
extinguishers." 

By  the  time  they  got  the  four  large  car- 
bonic acid  receptacles  a  new  thought  had 
occurred  to  Ed. 

"  Bring  an  auger,  boys.  There's  one 
lying  forward  there.     The  big  one." 

It  was  quickly  brought,  though  none  of 
the  boys  could  guess  what  Ed  intended  to 
do.  He  took  the  auger,  and  quickly  bored 
an  inch  hole  in  the  scuttle.  A  flash  and  a 
bullet  came  through  it,  but  nobody  was  hurt. 

"  Now,  give  me  an  extinguisher,"  said  Ed. 


i42    THE   LAST    OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

Putting  the  nozzle  of  the  hose  through 
the  hole,  he  turned  the  apparatus  upside 
down,  and  allowed  its  contents  to  be  driven 
violently  into  the  little  cabin.  When  the 
first  extinguisher  was  exhausted  he  turned  on 
the  hose  of  another,  and  after  that  of  a  third. 

For  a  while  the  imprisoned  man,  shut  up 
in  a  box  ten  feet  by  twelve  and  not  over  five 
or  six  feet  high,  indulged  in  lusty  yells,  but 
these  soon  became  husky,  and  presently 
ceased  entirely.  The  moment  they  did,  Ed 
called  out :  — 

"  Rip  off  the  scuttle  quick,  boys ;  he's 
suffocated." 

The  boys  did  not  at  all  understand  what 
had  happened,  but  they  acted  promptly  in 
obedience  to  their  wisest  comrade's  order. 
When  the  scuttle  was  opened  and  a  lantern 
brought,  Jim  was  seen  lying  limp  at  the  foot 
of  the  little  ladder. 

"  Now,  be  careful,"  said  Ed.  "  Irving, 
you  and  Phil  —  you're  the  strongest  —  go 
down,  hold  your  breath,  and  drag  him  up. 
Be  sure  to  hold  your  breath.  Do  just  as 
you  do  when  you're  diving." 

They  made  an  effort,  but  almost  instantly 
came  back,  gasping  for  air,  sneezing,  and 
with  eyes  and  noses  tingling. 


IN   THE   CHUTE  143 

"  Catch  your  breath  quick,"  said  Ed, 
"and  go  down  again.  You  must  get  him 
out,  or  he  will  be  dead,  if  he  isn't  dead 
already." 

They  made  another  dash,  this  time  acting 
more  carefully  upon  the  instruction  to  treat 
the  descent  as  if  it  were  a  dive,  and  carefully 
holding  their  breath.  In  a  brief  while  they 
dragged  the  body  of  the  pilot  out  upon  the 
deck,  and  Ed  gave  directions  for  restoring 
life  by  artificial  respiration. 

"You  see,  he's  practically  a  drowned 
man,"  he  said. 

"Drowned?"  said  Will  Moreraud. 
"Why,  he's  not  even  been  in  the  water, 
and  that  little  dash  with  the  hose  wouldn't 
drown  a  kitten." 

"  Never  mind  that,"  said  Ed ;  "quick 
now ;  he's  drowned,  or  just  the  same  thing. 
We  must  bring  him  to  life." 

"Well,  slip  that  rope  around  his  arms 
and  legs  while  we  do  it,"  said  Phil,  "  or  we'll 
have  trouble  when  he  comes  to." 

This  was  a  suggestion  which  they  all 
recognized  as  altogether  timely,  and  so  the 
apparent  corpse  was  carefully  secured  by 
two  of  the  boys,  while  the  rest  worked  at 
the  task  of  restoring  him  to  life. 


i44    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

He  "  came  to  "  in  a  little  while,  and  lay 
stretched  out  upon  the  deck,  weak  and 
exhausted.  Then,  at  Ed's  suggestion,  the 
boys  went  below  by  the  forward  door,  rolled 
away  the  obstructions,  and  threw  open  the 
door  of  the  cabin,  so  that  all  the  air  possible 
might  pass  through  it.  It  was  half  an  hour 
at  least  before  breathing  became  comfort- 
able in  that  little  box.  Then  Phil  made 
a  thorough  exploration  of  Jim's  carpet-bag, 
bunk,  and  everything  else  that  pertained 
to  him.  His  only  remark  as  to  the  result 
of  his  personal  inquiry  was  :  — 

"  I  guess  we  needn't  trouble  ourselves 
about  having  arrested  this  man." 

While  waiting  for  the  air  to  render  the 
cabin  habitable  again,  Constant  said,  "  But, 
Ed,  how  did  he  drown  without  going  into 
the  water?     I  don't  understand." 

"Neither  do  I,"  said  Will  Moreraud; 
"  but  he  was  drowned  all  safe  enough.  I've 
seen  too  many  drowned  people  not  to  know 
one  when  I  see  him." 

Then  Ed  explained  :  — 

"  That  cabin  is  a  little  box  about  ten  feet  by 
twelve,  and  six  feet  high,  and  when  shut  up 
it's  nearly  air  tight.  It  contains  only  a  little 
over  seven  hundred  cubic  feet  of  air.     These 


IN   THE   CHUTE  145 

chemical  fire  extinguishers  are  filled  with 
water  saturated  with  soda  or  saleratus. 
There  is  a  bottle  in  each  one,  filled  with 
oil  of  vitriol,  or  a  coarse,  cheap  sort  of  sul- 
phuric acid.  It  is  so  arranged  that  when 
you  turn  the  thing  upside  down  the  bottle 
breaks,  and  the  acid  is  dumped  into  the 
water.  Now  when  you  pour  sulphuric  acid 
into  a  mixture  of  water  and  soda,  the  soda 
gives  off  an  enormous  quantity  of  what  is 
commonly  called  carbonic  acid  gas,  though 
I  believe  its  right  name  is  carbon  dioxide. 
At  any  rate,  it  is  the  same  gas  that  makes 
soda  water  c  fizz/  But  when  you  turn  one 
of  these  machines  upside  down  you  get 
about  ten  or  twenty  times  as  much  of  the 
gas  in  the  water  as  there  is  in  the  same 
quantity  of  soda  water ;  and  when  you  turn 
this  doubled  and  twisted  soda  water  loose 
it  gives  off  its  gas  in  enormous  quantities. 
Now  this  gas  is  heavier  than  air,  so  when 
it  was  set  loose  down  in  the  cabin  there, 
it  sank  to  the  bottom,  and  the  air  floated 
on  top  of  it.  As  the  cabin  filled  up  with 
the  gas  the  air  came  out  through  the  hole 
in  the  scuttle  and  the  cracks  round  it. 
Pouring  that  gas  into  the  cabin  was  just 
like  pouring  water  into  a  jug ;  the  gas  took 


146    THE    LAST    OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

the  place  of  air  just  as  the  water  in  the  jug 
takes  the  place  of  the  air  that  was  in  it  at 
first. 

"  Suppose  you  let  a  lighted  lantern  down 
into  the  cabin,  Will,"  suggested  the  older 
boy,  "and  see  what  happens." 

Will  did  so,  and  the  lantern  went  out  as 
promptly  as  it  would  have  done  if  plunged 
into  water. 

"You  see,"  said  Ed,  "this  gas  puts  out 
fire,  and  it  puts  out  life  in  the  same  way. 
It  smothers  both.  It  absolutely  excludes 
oxygen,  and  neither  animal  life  nor  fire  can 
exist  without  oxygen.  Do  I  make  the 
thing  clear  ? " 

"  Perfectly,"  said  all  the  boys. 

"Then  that's  why  we  choked  so  when 
we  went  down  the  ladder  ? "  said  Phil. 

"  Certainly.  Your  air  was  as  completely 
cut  off  as  if  you  had  dived  into  water. 
That's  why  I  cautioned  you  to  hold  your 
breath  just  as  if  you  had  been  diving  into 
the  river." 


CHAPTER   XVI 


Naturally  the  boys  were  too  much 
excited  over  their  capture  to  talk  of  any- 
thing else,  and  for  a  time  they  did  not  even 
think  or  talk  of  the  most  important  phase 
of  that.  They  discussed  the  shooting, 
which  all  of  them  saw  to  be  reason  enough 
for  the  arrest,  but  it  was  not  until  well  on 
into  the  night  that  any  of  them  thought  to 
ask  Phil  about  the  results  of  his  search  of 
Jim's  satchel. 

Meantime  they  had  carried  the  pinioned 
man  below  and  securely  bound  him  to  his 
bunk.  Then  they  had  cooked  and  eaten 
their  supper,  talking  all  'the  time,  each  play- 
fully describing  his  own  consternation  at 
every  step  of  the  late  proceeding.  Finally 
Will  Moreraud  said  :  — 

"  By  the  way,  what  does  it  all  mean  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  joined  in  Irv  Strong,  "  it  at  last 
begins  to  dawn  upon  my  hitherto  excited 
consciousness,  that  we  have  not  yet  heard 
147 


148    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

the  results  of  Phil's  explorations  among 
Jim's  effects.     Tell  us  all  about  it,  Phil." 

They  were  sitting  in  the  cabin,  or  half 
way  in  it.  That  is  to  say,  Phil  was  sitting 
in  the  mouth  of  the  scuttle  above,  watching 
the  river  and  the  course  of  the  flatboat ;  Irv 
sat  just  below  him  on  the  steps,  and  the 
other  boys  were  gathered  around  the  little 
table  at  the  foot  of  the  ladder. 

"  One  of  you  come  up  here,  then,"  said 
Phil, "  and  keep  the  lookout  while  I  tell  you 
about  it.  I  thought  you'd  ask  after  you  got 
through  relating  your  personal  experiences." 

Ed  volunteered  to  take  the  place  at  the  top 
of  the  stairs,  although  his  frail  nerves  were 
now  quivering  after  the  strain  he  had  been 
through.  Phil  seized  the  carpet-bag  which 
he  had  instinctively  kept  under  his  hand  all 
the  time,  and  descended  the  ladder. 

There  he  opened  it  and  spread  its  con- 
tents on  the  table. 

"  These  are  what  I  have  found,"  he  said, 
suppressing  his  excitement.  "  This  big 
bundle  of  government  bonds,"  laying  it  on 
the  table ;  "  this  big  bundle  of  railroad  and 
other  securities,"  laying  that  down  in  its 
turn ;  "  this  great  wad  of  greenbacks,  and, 
best  of  all,  these !  " 


"TALKING   BUSINESS  "  149 

As  he  finished,  he  held  up  a  bundle  of 
letters. 

"  What  are  they  ?  Why  are  they  the 
best  part  of  all  ? "  queried  the  boys  in  a 
breath. 

"  They  are  letters  from  Jim  Hughes's 
fellow  criminals.  I  called  them  c  best  of  all ' 
because  they  will  enable  the  authorities  to 
catch  and  convict  the  whole  gang ! " 

The  exultation  of  the  crew  was  great. 

"  We  shall  have  rendered  a  great  service 
to  the  public,  shan't  we  ?  "  asked  Constant. 

"  A  very  great  service,  indeed.  And  that's 
what  we  must  rejoice  in,"  answered  Ed. 
"  But  we  mustn't  fail  to  render  it.  We 
mustn't  let  the  thief  slip  his  bonds  and 
escape." 

Hughes  was  lying  there  in  his  bunk  all 
the  while,  but  they  paid  no  attention  to  him. 
They  had  ceased  to  think  of  him  as  a  man. 
To  them  he  was  only  a  criminal,  just  as  he 
might  have  been  an  alligator  or  a  rattle- 
snake. 

"  Oh,  we'll  take  good  care  of  that,"  re- 
sponded Phil.  "  From  this  moment  till  we 
deliver  him  to  the  officers  of  the  law,  we'll 
keep  one  fellow  always  right  here  on  guard 
over   him.      It  will  mean   double  duty  for 


1 5o    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

some  of  you  to-night,  for  I'm  going  ashore 
presently." 

"  Going  ashore  !  What  for,  and  where?" 
was  eagerly  asked. 

"There's  a  little  town  down  here  some- 
where, as  I  see  by  the  map,  and  when  we 
get  to  it  I'm  going  ashore  to  send  telegrams. 
You  see,  Hughes's  c  pals '  might  have  some- 
body at  Memphis  armed  with  a  habeas  cor- 
pus or  something  of  that  sort,  and  take  him 
away  from  us.  I've  a  mind  to  deliver  the 
fugitive  myself.  So  I  propose  to  have 
officers  to  meet  us  with  warrants  and  things 
when  we  reach  Memphis." 

"  Good  idea,"  said  Irv. 

"And  there's  the  town  just  a  little  way 
ahead,"  called  out  Ed,  from  the  top  of  the 
ladder. 

Phil  went  at  once  on  deck,  leaped  into  the 
skiff  and  rowed  rapidly  ahead  of  the  slowly 
floating  flatboat,  or  as  rapidly  as  the  drift 
would  let  him.  When  he  reached  the  village 
he  found  to  his  disappointment  that  there 
was  no  telegraph  office  there.  But  he 
learned  that  there  was  one  at  the  hydro- 
graphic  engineer's  station  a  few  miles  below, 
on  the  opposite  side  of  the  river. 

By  this  time  the  flatboat  had  passed  him, 


"TALKING    BUSINESS  "  151 

and  he  had  a  long  "  stern  chase"  through 
the  darkness  and  drift  before  he  could  over- 
take and  board  her  again. 

Then,  assigning  Ed  to  guard  their  pris- 
oner in  the  cabin,  he  called  the  other  boys  to 
the  sweeps. 

"The  river  is  very  wide  here,"  he  ex- 
plained, "  and  the  telegraph  station  is  on  the 
other  side.  We  must  take  the  boat  well 
over  there." 

The  boys  pulled  with  a  will,  and  long 
before  the  station  came  in  view  the  flatboat 
was  close  in  shore  on  the  farther  side  of  the 
river. 

Meantime,  or  a  little  later,  something 
happened  in  the  cabin.  Ed  was  reading  a 
book,  when  suddenly  the  prisoner  called 
out:  — 

"  Ed." 

"  Yes  ? "  said  the  boy,  laying  down  his 
book. 

"  I'm  awfully  tired,  lying  in  one  position. 
Can't  you  turn  me  over  a  bit  ?  " 

Ed  went  at  once  to  his  relief.  His  tor- 
ture was  no  part  of  the  purpose  of  anybody 
on  board.  But  after  Ed  had  readjusted  the 
ropes  so  that  the  fellow  could  rest  more 
comfortably,  the  prisoner  said  :  — 


1 52    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

"  See  here,  Ed,  I  want  to  talk  to  you. 
You  fellows  have  made  a  tremendous  strike, 
for  of  course  there's  no  use  in  disguising  the 
truth  any  longer,  to  you  at  least,  or  pre- 
tending to  be  what  I  have  tried  to  appear. 
You've  got  your  man  and  you've  got  the 
proofs  dead  to  rights.  You've  found  me 
with  the  swag  in  my  possession.  If  you 
turn  me  over  to  the  law,  I'll  go  up  for  ten 
or  twenty  years  to  a  certainty.  There  is  no 
use  in  defending  myself.  The  case  is  too 
clear,  too  complete.     Do  you  see  ?  " 

"  Certainly  "  responded  Ed.  "  You  must 
pay  the  penalty  of  your  crime.  We  have 
no  personal  hard  feeling  against  you,  Jim, 
except  that  you  ought  not  to  have  tried  to 
involve  us  boys  as  you  have  done,  and  —  " 

"  Well,  you  see,  Ed,"  interrupted  the 
bound  man,  "  I  was  desperate.  There  was 
a  big  price  on  my  head,  and  hundreds  of 
men  were  looking  for  me  everywhere.  On 
the  one  hand,  a  prison  stared  me  in  the 
face,  on  the  other  was  freedom  with  abun- 
dant wealth  to  enjoy  it  with.  If  I  could  get 
down  the  river,  I  thought  I  should  have 
everything  snug  and  right.  I  didn't  mean 
to  get  you  boys  into  any  trouble  —  really 
and   truly  I  didn't,  Ed.     My  plan   was  to 


"TALKING   BUSINESS"  153 

blunder  into  that  chute,  and  while  you  fel- 
lows were  all  scared  half  to  death  about  it, 
to  slip  ashore.  I  had  those  men  on  the 
bank  just  for  safety's  sake.  They  don't 
really  know  anything  about  me  or  what  I've 
got  —  what  I  did  have,"  he  corrected,  with 
sudden  recollection  that  his  carpet-bag  was 
no  longer  in  his  possession. 

"  Those  men  were  hired  by  my  partners 
to  have  horses  there  and  run  me  off  into 
Mississippi,  and  I  was  to  give  them  a  hun- 
dred or  two  for  the  job,  besides  paying  for 
the  horses  we  might  ride  to  death.  Really 
and  truly,  Ed,  that's  all  there  was  of  that." 

"  I  see  no  particular  reason  to  doubt  your 
statement,  Jim,"  replied  the  boy.  "  But 
what  of  it  ?  " 

"Well,  you  see,  I  want  to  talk  business 
with  you,  Ed,  and  I  wanted  you  to  know, 
in  the  first  place,  that  I  hadn't  tried  to  harm 
you  boys  in  any  way  —  at  least,  till  I  was 
caught  in  a  trap  by  that  sharp  brother  of 
yours."  There  was  a  distinct  touch  of 
malignity  in  the  man's  tone  as  he  men- 
tioned Phil,  to  whom  he  justly  attributed 
his  capture. 

"  Never  mind  that,"  he  resumed  after  a 
moment.      "  I   want   to   talk    business   with 


i54    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

you,  as  I  said.  Here  are  you  five  boys,  all 
alone  on  the  river.  Anything  might  hap- 
pen to  a  flatboat.  You're  likely  to  make, 
as  nearly  as  I  can  figure  it  out  from  your 
talk,  about  fifty  or  a  hundred  or  at  most  a 
hundred  and  fifty  dollars  apiece  out  of  the 
trip,  after  paying  steamboat  passage  back. 
Now  you've  caught  me.  If  you  surrender 
me-" 

"Which  of  course  we  shall,"  broke  in 
Ed,  in  astonishment. 

"As  I  was  saying"  continued  Jim,  "if 
you  surrender  me,  you'll  probably  get  the 
reward  offered,  though  that's  never  quite 
certain." 

"What  possible  difference  can  that  make?" 
asked  Ed,  indignantly.  "You're  a  thief. 
We  have  caught  you  with  hundreds  of  thou- 
sands of  dollars'  worth  of  other  people's 
property  in  your  possession.  We  have  only 
one  thing  to  do.  We  must  deliver  you  to 
the  officers  of  the  law.  We  should  do  that 
if  not  a  cent  of  reward  was  offered.  We 
should  do  it  simply  because  we're  ordinarily 
honest  persons  who  think  that  thieves  ought 
to  be  punished  and  that  stolen  property 
ought  to  be  returned  to  its  owners.  What 
has  the  reward  to  do  with  it  ? " 


"TALKING   BUSINESS"  155 

"I'm  glad  you  look  at  it  in  that  way/' 
said  the  prisoner.  "  At  most  the  reward  is 
a  trifle,  as  you  say.  Five  thousand  dollars 
to  five  of  you  means  only  a  thousand  dollars 
apiece.  Now  I've  a  business  proposition  to 
make.  Suppose  you  let  me  slip  ashore  some- 
where down  here,  I'll  leave  behind  me  —  I'll 
put  into  your  hands  all  the  coupon  bonds. 
They're  better  than  cash  —  they  are  good 
for  their  face  and  a  good  deal  more  any- 
where. You  boys  can  sink  the  old  flatboat 
down  the  river  somewhere,  sell  out  the 
bonds  to  any  banker,  and  go  ashore  rich  — 
worth  more  than  anybody  in  Vevay's  got,  or 
ever  will  have." 

The  man  spoke  eagerly,  but  not  excitedly, 
and  he  watched  closely  to  see  the  effect  of 
his  words. 

Ed  preserved  his  self-control.  Indeed,  it 
was  his  habit  always  to  grow  cool,  or  at  least 
to  seem  so,  in  precise  proportion  to  the 
occasion  for  growing  hot.  He  waited  awhile 
before  he  spoke.     Then  he  said  :  — 

"  Jim  Hughes,  —  or  whatever  your  name 
is  —  well,  I'll  simply  call  you  Thief,  for 
that  name  belongs  to  you  even  if  nothing 
else  that  you  possess  does,  —  you  thief,  if  you 
had  made  such  a  proposition  as  that  to  my 


156    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

father,  he  would  have  —  well,  he  was  said  to 
be  hot-headed.  I'm  not  hot-headed  — " 
"  No.  You're  reasonable.  You're  —  " 
"  Stop  !  "  shouted  Ed.  "  If  you  weren't 
tied  up  there  and  helpless,  you'd  make  me 
hot-headed,  too,  like  my  father,  and  I'd  do 
to  you  what  he  would  have  done.  As  it  is, 
I'm  cool-headed.  I'll  c  talk  business  '  with 
you ;  and  the  business  I  have  to  talk  is  just 
this :  I  forbid  you  from  this  moment  to 
open  your  mouth  again,  except  to  ask  for 
water,  while  you  are  on  this  flatboat.  If 
you  say  one  other  word  to  me  or  to  any  of 
my  companions  I'll  forget  that  I  am  not  my 
hot-headed  father,  and  —  well,  it  will  be  very 
greatly  the  worst  for  you.  Now  not  a 
word ! "  seeing  that  the  fellow  was  about  to 
speak.  "  Not  a  word,  except  the  word 
6  water,'  till  my  brother  turns  you  over  to 
the  officers  of  the  law.  I'm  not  captain,  but 
this  particular  order  of  mine  'goes.'  I'm 
going  to  ask  my  brother  to  pass  it  on  to  the 
others,  and  it  will  be  enforced,  be  very  sure. 
They  are  not  cool-headed  as  I  am,  particu- 
larly Phil.  He's  like  my  father  sometimes. 
Remember,  you  are  not  to  speak  any  word 
except  c  water '  till  you  pass  from  our 
custody." 


"TALKING   BUSINESS"  157 

The  high-strung  boy  tried  to  control  him- 
self, but  he  was  livid  with  rage.  He  choked 
and  gasped  for  breath  as  he  spoke.  Weak 
as  he  was  physically,  he  would  certainly  have 
assaulted  the  man  who  had  deliberately  pro- 
posed to  make  him  a  partner  in  crime,  but 
for  the  fact  that  the  fellow  was  bound,  hand 
and  foot,  and  therefore  helpless.  In  his  rage 
Ed  ran  up  the  ladder  and  called  for  his 
brother,  meaning  to  ask  that  the  man  be 
released  from  his  bonds  in  order  that  he,  Ed 
Lowry,  might  wreck  vengeance  upon  him 
for  the  insult. 

Phil  had  gone  ashore  to  send  his  tele- 
grams. Irv  Strong  had  been  left  in  com- 
mand of  the  boat.  He  asked  Ed  what  was 
the  matter.  Ed,  still  choking  with  rage, 
explained  as  well  as  he  could,  growing  more 
excited  every  moment,  and  ended  by  de- 
manding :  — 

"  Let  the  scoundrel  loose !  cut  the  ropes 
that  bind  him,  and  give  me  a  chance  at 
him  ! " 

"  Hold  on,  Ed,"  said  Irv.  "  The  wise 
Benjamin  Franklin  once  said :  c  No  gentle- 
man will  insult  one ;  no  other  can.'  This 
thief,  burglar,  bank  robber,  that  we've  got 
tied  in  a  bunk  down  there,  cant  insult  you. 


158    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

He  doesn't  know  our  kind.  He  isn't  in 
our  class.  It  never  occurs  to  his  mind  that 
anybody  is  really  honest.  It  seems  to  him 
a  question  of  price,  and  he  thinks  he  has 
offered  you  mighty  good  terms.  If  any 
man  who  understood  common  honesty  and 
believed  in  its  existence  had  made  such  a 
proposition  to  you,  your  wrath  would  be 
righteous.  As  it  is,  your  wrath  is  merely 
ridiculous.  Of  course  a  trapped  bank  burglar 
tries  to  buy  his  way  out  with  his  swag.  Of 
course  such  a  creature  doesn't  know  what  hon- 
est people  think  or  feel  —  he  has  no  capacity 
to  understand  it  any  more  than  he  could 
understand  Russian.  Go  below,  Constant, 
and  watch  that  thief.  Ed,  you  must  recover 
yourself.  Phil  will  come  aboard  presently, 
and  I  really  don't  suppose  you  want  to  tell 
Phil  precisely  what  has  happened  and  leave 
him  to  —  well,  let  us  say  to  discipline  Jim 
Hughes." 

"  No,  no;  oh,  no !  "  said  Ed,  suddenly  real- 
izing what  that  would  mean.  "  Phil  would 
—  oh,  I  don't  know  what  he  wouldn't  do. 
For  conscience'  sake  don't  tell  him  what 
happened ! " 

"  Suppose  you  go  forward  then,"  sug- 
gested Irv,  "and   sit  down   on   the    anchor 


"TALKING   BUSINESS  "  159 

and  cool  off,  and  so  far  recover  yourself  that 
Phil  won't  notice  anything  or  ask  any  ques- 
tions when  he  comes  aboard/' 

The  suggestion  was  very  quietly  given, 
quite  as  if  the  whole  matter  had  been  one  of 
no  consequence.  But  it  was  instantly  effect- 
ive. Irv  well  knew  that  Ed's  greatest  dread 
was  that  Phil's  fiery  temper  might  get  the 
better  of  him  sometime.  So  Irv  had 
shrewdly  appealed  to  that  fear. 

"  I  will ;  I'll  cool  down  at  once,"  said  Ed, 
rising  in  his  earnestness.  "Nobody  knows 
what  Phil  would  do  or  wouldn't  do  if  he 
knew  of  this.  Irv,  you  must  prevent  that. 
Make  all  the  boys  pledge  themselves  not  to 
let  him  know,  at  least  till  Hughes  is  out  of 
our  hands." 

Irv  was  glad  enough  to  make  the  promise 
and  to  fulfil  it.  For  he,  too,  knew  with  what 
reckless  fervor  the  high-mettled  boy  would 
be  sure  to  inflict  punishment  for  the  insult 
should  he  learn  of  it. 

"  Phil  is  the  jolliest,  best-natured  fellow  in 
the  world,"  explained  Irv,  when  he  asked  the 
other  boys  not  to  tell  their  captain  what  had 
happened,  "  but  you  know  what  a  temper 
he  has  —  or  rather  you  don't  know.  None 
of  us  does,  because  nobody  has  ever  made 


160    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

the  mistake  of  stirring  him  up  with  a  real, 
vital  insult." 

"  No,"  said  Will,  "  and  I  pity  the  fellow 
that  ever  makes  that  particular  mistake." 

"  We'll  never  tell  him,"  said  Constant. 
"  If  we  did,  we  mightn't  be  able  to  deliver 
our  prisoner." 


CHAPTER   XVII 


AT    ANCHOR 


Phil  had  sent  two  telegrams, — one  to  the 
authorities  at  Memphis,  and  the  other  to  the 
plundered  bank  in  Cincinnati.  In  each  he 
had  announced  his  captures,  —  the  man  and 
the  funds,  —  and  in  each  he  had  asked  that 
officers  to  arrest  and  persons  to  identify  the 
culprit  should  be  waiting  at  Memphis  on  the 
arrival  of  the  flatboat. 

On  his  return  to  the  flatboat  he  felt  him- 
self so  excited  and  sleepless  that  he  sent  his 
comrades  below  to  sleep  and  by  turns  to 
watch  the  prisoner.  He  would  himself  re- 
main on  duty  on  deck  all  night.  As  the 
night  wore  away,  the  boy  thought  out  all 
the  possibilities,  for  he  felt  that  for  any  mis- 
carriage in  this  matter  he  would  be  solely 
responsible. 

Among  the  possibilities  was  this :  that 
should  the  flatboat  arrive  at  Memphis  before 
some  one  could  get  there  from  Cincinnati  to 

N  161 


1 62    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

identify  the  prisoner,  he  might  be  discharged 
for  want  of  such  identification.  It  would 
take  a  day  or  two  to  send  men  by  rail  from 
Cincinnati  to  Memphis,  while  the  fierce  cur- 
rent of  this  Mississippi  flood  promised  to 
take  the  flatboat  thither  within  less  than 
twenty  hours. 

After  working  out  all  the  probabilities  in 
his  mind  as  well  as  he  could,  Phil  called 
below  for  all  his  comrades  to  come  to  the 
sweeps.  He  did  not  tell  them  his  purpose; 
they  were  too  sleepy  even  to  ask.  But 
studying  the  "lay  of  the  land"  on  either 
side,  he  steered  the  flatboat  into  a  sort  of 
pocket  on  the  Tennessee  shore,  and  to  the 
bewilderment  of  his  comrades,  ordered  the 
anchor  cast  overboard. 

By  the  time  that  the  anchor  held,  and  the 
boat  came  to  a  rest  in  the  bend,  the  boys 
were  much  too  wide  awake  not  to  have  their 
minds  full  of  interrogation  marks. 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Phil  ?  "  "  Why 
have  we  anchored  ?  "  "  How  long  are  we 
to  remain  here  ?  "  "What's  the  matter, 
anyhow  ? "  "  Have  you  gone  crazy,  or 
what  is  it?" 

These  and  a  volley  of  similar  questions 
were  fired  at  him. 


AT   ANCHOR  163 


He  did  not  answer.  He  went  to  one 
side  of  the  boat  and  then  to  the  other  to 
observe  position. 

"How  much  anchor  line  is  out,  Will?" 
he  presently  asked. 

"Nearly  all  of  it,"  answered  his  comrade. 

"This  wont  do,"  said  Phil.  "Up 
anchor." 

The  boys  were  more  than  ever  puzzled. 
But  they  tugged  away  at  the  anchor  wind- 
lass till  the  flukes  let  go  the  bottom  and  the 
anchor  was  halfway  up.  Then  Phil  called 
out :  — 

"  That  will  do.  Put  a  peg  in  the  wind- 
lass and  let  the  anchor  swing  in  the  water. 
To  the  sweeps !  Hard  on  the  starboard ! 
We  must  push  her  inshore  and  into  shal- 
lower water,  where  the  anchor  will  hold  her, 
and  where  no  steamboat  is  likely  to  run 
over  us.  Who  would  have  thought  it  was 
so  deep  over  here  ?  " 

The  boys  now  began  to  understand  why 
the  first  anchorage  had  been  abandoned  and 
a  shallower  one  sought  for,  but  they  did 
not  yet  know  what  their  captain  meant  by 
anchoring  at  all.  They  did  not  understand 
why,  on  so  clear  a  night,  with  a  river  so 
generously    flooded,    he   did    not  let  things 


1 64    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

take  their  course  and  get  to  Memphis  as 
quickly  as  possible. 

Presently  the  anchor,  dragging  at  half 
cable,  fouled  the  bottom  and,  with  a  strain 
that  made  the  check-post  creak,  the  flatboat 
came  to  a  full  stop. 

"  That  will  do,"  said  Phil.  "  This  is  as 
good  a  place  as  any.  Pay  out  some  more 
anchor  line  and  let  her  rest." 

"  But  what  on  earth  are  you  anchoring 
for  ?  "  asked  the  others,  "  and  how  long  are 
we  going  to  lie  here  ?  "  queried  Ed. 

"  Nearly  two  days  and  nights,"  was  the 
reply,  — "  long  enough  to  let  somebody 
travel  from  Cincinnati  to  Memphis  who  can 
identify  Jim  Hughes  and  take  him  off  our 
hands.  I  suppose  it  would  be  all  right  if 
we  went  on  without  waiting.  But  I'm  not 
certain  of  that,  and  Fm  not  taking  any 
chances  in  this  business,  so  we'll  lie  at 
anchor  here  for  nearly  two  days.  Go  to 
bed,  all  of  you  except  the  one  on  watch 
over  Jim  Hughes.  I'm  not  sleepy,  so  I'll 
stay  on  deck  for  the  rest  of  the  night." 

But  by  that  time  the  boys  were  not  sleepy 
either,  so  they  made  no  haste  about  going 
to  their  bunks. 

"  We'll  be  pretty  short  of  something  to 


AT  ANCHOR  165 


eat  by  that  time/'  said  Constant,  who  was 
just  then  in  charge  of  the  cooking.  "We 
have  only  a  scrap  of  bread  left.  The  eggs 
and  fresh  meat  and  milk  are  used  up,  and 
we'll  have  to  fall  back  on  corn-bread  and 
fried  salt  pork." 

"  Well,  that's  food  fit  for  the  gods,"  said 
Irv  Strong,  "if  the  gods  happen  to  be 
healthy,  hungry  flatboatmen.  But  how 
important  the  food  question  always  is  in  an 
emergency  !  How  it  always  crops  up  when 
you  get  away  from  home  !  " 

"  Yes,  and  at  home  too,"  said  Ed ;  "  only 
there  we  have  somebody  else  to  look  after 
the  three  meals  a  day.  It's  the  most  im- 
portant question  in  the  world.  If  all  food 
supplies  were  cut  off  for  a  single  month,  this 
world  would  be  as  dead  as  the  moon." 

"That's  true,"  broke  in  Will.  "And  really, 
I  suppose  the  world  isn't  very  forehanded 
with  it  at  best.  I  wonder  how  many  years 
we  could  last,  anyhow,  if  the  crops  ceased  to 
grow." 

"  Not  more  than  one  year,"  replied  the 
older  boy.  "  There  never  was  a  time  when 
mankind  had  food  enough  accumulated  to 
last  for  much  more  than  a  year,  and  probably 
there  never  will  be.     If  there  should  be  no 


1 66    THE    LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

crop  for  a  single  year,  hundreds  of  thousands 
would  starve  every  month,  and  a  second 
failure  would  simply  blot  out  the  race.  As 
for  forehandedness,  we  actually  live  from 
hand  to  mouth,  especially  the  people  in  the 
big  cities.  Only  last  winter  a  great  snow- 
storm blockaded  the  railroads  leading  into 
New  York  for  only  three  or  four  days,  and 
even  in  that  short  time  the  price  of  food 
went  up  so  high  that  the  charitable  institu- 
tions had  all  they  could  do  to  keep  poor 
people  from  starving.  So  far  from  the  world 
generally  being  forehanded  for  food,  there 
never  was  a  time  when  the  food  on  hand  was 
really  sufficient  to  go  round/' 

"  Well,  of  course,"  said  Will,  medita- 
tively, "  there  are  always  some  people  so 
c  down  on  their  luck,'  as  the  saying  is,  that 
they  can't  earn  a  living,  but  there's  always 
enough  food  for  them  if  they  could  get  hold 
of  it." 

"  You're  mistaken,"  said  Ed.  "  There  is 
nearly  always  something  like  a  famine  in  parts 
of  India  and  Russia,  and  even  in  Italy  and 
other  parts  of  Europe  there  are  great  masses 
of  very  hard-working  people  who  never  in 
their  lives  get  enough  to  eat." 

There  were   exclamations  of  surprise   at 


AT   ANCHOR  167 

this,  but  Ed  presently  continued :  "  In 
many  European  countries  the  peasants  do 
not  see  a  piece  of  meat  once  a  year,  and  in 
hardly  any  of  them  do  the  poorer  people  get 
what  we  would  think  sufficient  for  food.  In 
fact,  their  food  is  not  sufficient.  They  are 
always  more  or  less  starved,  and  that's  the 
reason  so  many  of  them  are  the  little  runts 
they  are." 

"  Then  we  are  better  off  than  most  other 
nations  ?  "  said  Irv. 

"  Immeasurably  !  "  said  Ed.  "  Ours  is 
the  best  fed  nation  in  the  world.  It  is  the 
only  nation  in  which  the  poorest  laborer  can 
have  meat  on  his  table  every  day  in  the  year, 
for  even  in  England  the  poorer  laborers  have 
to  make  out  with  cheese  pretty  often." 

"  What's  the  reason  ?  "  asked  Phil,  who 
had  acquired  the  habit  of  using  short  sen- 
tences and  as  few  words  as  possible  since  his 
burden  of  responsibility  had  borne  so  heavily 
upon  him. 

"There  are  several  reasons/  Our  soil  is 
fertile  —  but  so  is  that  of  France  and  Italy, 
for  that  matter.  I  suppose  the  great  reason 
is  that  we  do  not  have  to  support  vast  armies 
in  idleness.  In  most  of  the  European  coun- 
tries they  make  everybody  serve  in  the  army 


1 68    THE   LAST   OF   THE    FLATBOATS 

for  three  or  four  years.  It  costs  a  lot  of 
money  to  support  these  armies  and  it  costs 
the  country  a  great  deal  more  than  that." 

"  In  what  way  ? "  asked  Constant,  who, 
being  on  sentry  duty  over  Hughes,  was 
sitting  halfway  down  the  ladder. 

"  Why,  by  taking  all  the  young  men  away 
from  productive  work  for  three  years.  Take 
half  a  million  young  men  away  from  work 
and  put  them  in  the  army,  and  you  lose 
each  year  all  the  work  that  a  man  could  do 
in  half  a  million  years,  all  the  food  or  other 
things  that  half  a  million  men  could  pro- 
duce in  a  year  ?  " 

"And  the  other  people  have  to  make  it 
all  up,"  drawled  Irv.  "I  don't  wonder 
they're  tired." 

"  And  besides  making  it  all  up,  as  you 
say,"  responded  Ed,  "those  other  people 
have  to  work  to  feed  and  clothe  and  house 
and  arm  all  these  men,  besides  transporting 
them  from  one  place  to  another,  and  paying 
for  costly  parades  and  all  that  sort  of  thing. 
Why,  every  time  one  of  the  big  modern 
guns  is  fired  at  a  target  it  burns  up  some 
man's  earnings  for  a  whole  year !  Some 
man  must  work  a  year  or  more  to  pay  the 
expense  of  doing  it !  " 


AT   ANCHOR  169 


"Then  why  don't  the  people  of  those 
countries  c  kick  V?  "  asked  Will,  "and  abol- 
ish their  armies  ? " 

"  Because  the  people  of  those  countries 
have  masters,  and  the  masters  own  the 
armies,  and  the  armies  would  make  short 
work  of  any  c  kick/  In  our  country  the 
people  are  the  masters,  and  they  have  always 
refused  to  let  anybody  set  up  a  great  stand- 
ing army.  When  we  have  a  war,  the  people 
volunteer  and  fight  it  to  a  finish.  Then 
the  men  who  have  been  doing  the  fighting 
are  mustered  out,  and  they  go  back  to  their 
work,  earn  their  own  living,  and  put  in  their 
time  producing  something  that  mankind 
needs." 

"  Cipher  it  all  down,"  said  Irv,  "  it's 
liberty  that  makes  this  the  best  country  in 
the  world  to  live  in." 

"  Precisely  ! "  said  Ed,  with  emphasis. 
"  And  about  the  most  important  duty  every 
American  has  to  do  is  to  remember  that 
one,  supreme  fact,  and  do  his  part  to  keep 
our  country  as  it  is." 


CHAPTER   XVIII 


AT    BREAKFAST 


The  day  was  dawning  by  this  time,  and 
the  conversation  was  broken  up.  Constant 
set  to  work  to  prepare  breakfast  while  the 
others  extinguished  the  lanterns,  trimmed 
them,  filled  them  with  oil,  and  "cleaned 
up  "  generally. 

When  breakfast  was  served,  the  scarcity 
of  supplies  was  apparent.  There  were  some 
"  cold-water  hoecakes,"  —  that  is  to  say, 
bread  made  of  corn-meal  mixed  up  with 
cold  water  and  a  little  salt,  and  baked  in 
cakes  about  half  or  three  quarters  of  an  inch 
thick  upon  a  griddle.  There  was  a  dish 
of  fried  salt  pork,  and  with  it  some  fried 
potatoes.  And  there  was  nothing  else, 
except  a  "  private  dish "  consisting  of  two 
slices  of  toast  made  from  the  scrap  of  stale 
wheat  bread  left,  with  a  poached  egg  on 
each  of  them.  There  was  no  coffee  and 
no  butter,  the  last  remains  of  that  having 
been  used  upon  the  toast. 
170 


AT   BREAKFAST  171 

The  "  private  dish,"  Constant  explained, 
was  for  Ed.  "  You  see,  we're  out  to  get 
him  well,  and  his  digestive  apparatus  doesn't 
take  kindly  to  fried  things.  I've  saved 
four  more  eggs  for  him  —  the  last  we've  got, 
—  and  six  more  slices  of  stale  wheat  bread. 
The  rest  of  you  are  barbarians,  and  you'll 
wrestle  with  any  sort  of  hash  I  can  get  up 
till  we  get  to  Memphis." 

Ed  protested  vigorously  against  the  favor- 
itism shown  him,  but  the  others  supported 
Constant's  plan,  and  the  older  boy  had  to 
yield. 

"  Well,  I  am  deeply  grateful  for  your 
kindness,  boys,"  he  said,  "  and  I'm  duly 
grateful  also  to  the  thousands  of  men  in 
various  parts  of  the  country  who  have 
worked  so  hard  to  furnish  me  with  these 
two  slices  of  toast." 

The  boys  looked  up  from  their  plates. 

"  Here's  another  revelation,"  said  Irv. 
"  My  ill-furnished  intelligence  is  about  to 
receive  another  supply  of  much-needed  rudi- 
mentary information.  Go  on,  Ed.  Tell  us 
about  it.  How  in  the  world  do  you  figure 
out  your  c  thousands '  of  men  who  have  had 
anything  to  do  with  those  two  slices  of 
toast  ? " 


1 72    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

"  Oh,  that  was  a  joke,"  said  Will. 

"  It  was  nothing  of  the  kind/'  answered 
Ed.  "  I  can't  possibly  count  up  all  the 
people  who  have  worked  hard  to  give  me 
this  toast,  but  they  certainly  number  greatly 
more  than  a  thousand. " 

"  We're  only  waiting  for  wisdom  to  drop 
from  your  lips  — "  began  Irv,  with  his 
drawl. 

"  O,  quit  it,  Irv  J "  said  Phil ;  "  you'll  learn 
more  by  listening  than  by  talking." 

"That  is  probably  so,"  said  the  other, 
"though  I  remember  that  we  heard  some- 
thing away  up  the  river,  about  how  much 
a  person  learns  of  a  subject  by  talking 
about  it." 

"Yes,  but  —  " 

"Listen,"  said  Ed,  "and  I'll  explain. 
The  wheat  out  of  which  this  toast  was 
made  was  grown  probably  in  Dakota  or 
Minnesota.  There  was  a  farmer  there,  and 
perhaps  there  were  some  farm-hands  also, 
who  ploughed  the  ground,  sowed  the  seed, 
reaped  the  wheat,  threshed  it,  winnowed 
it,  and  all  that.     Then  —  " 

"  Yes,  but  all  that  wouldn't  include  more 
than  half  a  dozen,"  said  Phil. 

"Yes,   it  would,"    said  Irv,  "for  there's 


AT   BREAKFAST  173 

all  the  womenfolk  who  cooked  the  men's 
meals  and  —  " 

"Never  mind  them,"  said  Ed,  "though 
of  course  they  helped  to  give  me  my  toast. 
Let's  count  only  those  that  contributed 
directly  to  that  kindly  end.  These  farmer 
people  used  ploughs,  harrows,  drills,  reapers, 
threshing-machines,  wagons,  and  all  that, 
and  somebody  must  have  made  them.  And 
back  of  those  who  made  them  were  those 
who  dug  the  iron  for  them  out  of  the  ground, 
and  cut  the  wood  in  them  out  of  the  forest, 
and  the  men  who  made  the  tools  with  which 
they  did  all  this,  and  —  " 

f  I  see,"  said  Irv.  "  It's  the  biggest 
endless  chain  imaginable.  Thousands  ? 
Why,  thousands  had  a  hand  in  it  before 
you  even  get  to  the  farmer — the  men  who 
made  the  tools,  and  the  men  who  made  the 
tools  that  made  the  tools,  and  so  on  back 
to  the  very  beginnings  of  creation.  And  if 
we  face  about,  there  are  the  men  that  ran 
the  railroads  which  hauled  the  wheat  to  mill, 
and  the  millers,  and  all  that.  Oh,  the  thou- 
sand are  easy  enough  to  make  out." 

"  Yes,"  said  Ed,  "  and  then  the  railroads 
and  the  mills  had  to  be  built.  The  men 
that  built  them,    the    engineers,   mechanics, 


174    THE   LAST    OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

and  laborers,  all  helped  to  give  me  my  two 
slices  of  toast.  So  did  the  men  behind 
them,  the  men  who  made  their  tools  and 
their  materials,  the  woodsmen  who  chopped 
trees  for  ties,  the  miners  who  dug  the  iron, 
the  smelters,  the  puddlers,  the  rolling-mill 
men,  who  wrought  the  crude  ore  into  steel 
rails ;  then  there  are  all  the  men  who  made 
the  locomotives,  and  the  cars,  and  the 
machinery  of  the  mills,  and  — " 

"  Oh,  stop  for  mercy's  sake,"  said  Will. 
"  It's  no  use  to  count.  There  aren't  thou- 
sands, but  millions  of  them.  And  of  course 
the  same  thing  is  true  of  our  clothes,  our 
shoes,  and  everything  else." 

"  But  with  so  many  people's  work  rep- 
resented in  it,"  asked  Irv,  reflectively,  "why 
isn't  that  piece  of  toast  an  enormously  costly 
affair  ?  " 

"  Simply  because  so  many  people's  work  is 
represented  in  it,"  answered  Ed.  "  If  one 
man  had  to  do  it  all  for  himself,  it  would 
never  be  done  at  all.  Just  imagine  a  man 
set  down  on  the  earth  with  no  tools  and 
nobody  to  help  him.  How  much  buttered 
toast  do  you  suppose  he  would  be  able  to 
turn  out  in  a  year  ?  Why,  before  he  could 
get  so   much  as   a   hoe   he  would  have  to 


AT   BREAKFAST  175 

travel  hundreds  of  miles,  dig  some  iron  and 
coal,  cut  wood  with  which  to  convert  the 
coal  into  coke,  melt  the  iron  out  of  its  ore, 
change  it  into  steel,  and  shape  it  into  a  hoe. 
Why,  even  a  hoe  would  cost  him  a  year's 
hard  work  or  more,  while  a  wagon  he  could 
hardly  make  without  tools  in  a  lifetime. 
Now  he  can  earn  the  price  of  a  hoe  in  a  few 
hours,  and  the  cost  of  a  wagon  in  a  few 
days  or  weeks,  simply  because  everybody 
works  for  everybody  else,  each  man  doing 
only  the  thing  that  he  can  db  best." 

"  Then  we  all  work  for  each  other  with- 
out knowing  it,"  said  Will. 

"  Of  course  we  do.  When  we  fellows 
were  diving  for  that  pig-iron,  we  were  work- 
ing for  the  thousands  of  people  who  will  use 
or  profit  by  the  things  that  somebody  else 
will  make  out  of  that  pig-iron  and  —  " 

"  And  for  the  somebody  else,"  said  Irv, 
"  that  will  make  those  things  out  of  the  pig- 
iron,  and  for  all  the  c  somebody  elses '  that 
work  for  them,  and  so  on  in  every  direction  ! 
Whew  !  it  makes  my  head  swim  to  think 
of  it.  But  what  a  nabob  you  are,  Ed !  Just 
think !  Thousands  and  even  millions  of 
people  are,  at  this  moment,  at  work  to  make 
you  comfortable ! " 


176    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

"  Yes,  and  each  one  of  the  millions  is  at 
work  for  all  the  others  while  all  the  others 
are  at  work  for  him.  Theorists  sometimes 
dream  out  systems  of  Cooperative  industry/ 
hoping  in  that  way  to  better  men's  condi- 
tion. But  their  very  wildest  dreams  do  not 
even  approach  the  complex  and  perfectly 
working  cooperation  we  already  have  in 
use. 

"Just  think  of  it !  "  said  Irv.  "  Suppose 
that  every  man  in  our  little  town  of  two  or 
three  thousand  people  had  to  do  everything 
for  himself!  He  would  have  to  raise  sheep 
for  wool,  card,  spin,  and  weave  it,  and  fash- 
ion it  into  clothes.  He  would  have  to  raise 
cotton  and  linen  in  the  same  way,  and  cattle 
too,  and  keep  a  tannery  and  be  a  shoemaker 
and  a  farmer  and  a  mason  and  a  carpenter 
and  all  the  rest  of  it.  And  then  he  would 
have  to  mine  his  own  iron  and  coal,  and 
make  his  own  tools  and  —  well,  he  wouldn't 
do  it,  because  he  couldn't.  He'd  just  wan- 
der off  into  the  woods  hunting  for  some- 
thing that  he  could  kill  and  eat,  and  he'd 
try  to  kill  anybody  else  that  did  the  same 
thing,  for  fear  that  the  somebody  else  would 
get  some  of  the  game  that  he  wanted  for 
himself.     He'd  be  simply  a  savage  !  " 


AT   BREAKFAST  177 

"  Well,  but  even  savages  go  in  tribes  and 
hunt  together  and  live  together/'  said  Will. 

"  Of  course  they  do,"  answered  Ed,  "  and 
that's  their  first  step  up  toward  civilization. 
When  they  do  that  they  have  learned  in 
a  small  way  the  advantage  of  working  to- 
gether, each  for  all  and  all  for  each.  The 
better  they  learn  that  lesson,  the  more  civil- 
ized they  become." 

"Then  the  theorists  are  right  who  want 
the  state  to  own  everything  and  everybody 
to  work  for  the  state  and  be  supported  by 
it  ?  "  asked  Phil. 

"  Not  a  little  bit  of  it,"  said  Ed.  "  That 
would  be  simply  to  go  back  to  the  tribal 
plan  that  savages  adopt  when  they  first  real- 
ize the  advantages  of  working  together,  and 
abandon  when  they  grow  civilized.  We 
have  worked  out  of  that  and  into  something 
better.  With  us,  every  man  works  for  all 
the  rest  by  working  for  himself  in  the  way 
that  best  serves  his  own  welfare.  Under  our 
system  every  man  is  urged  and  stimulated 
by  self-interest  to  do  the  very  best  and  most 
work  that  he  can.  Under  a  communistic 
or  socialistic  or  tribal  system,  every  man 
would  be  as  lazy  as  the  rest  would  let  him 
be,  because  he  would  be  sure  of  a  share  in 


178    THE    LAST    OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

all  that  the  others  might  make  by  their  labor. 
It  is  sharp  competition  that  makes  men  do 
their  best.  It  is  in  the  Struggle  for  exist- 
ence '  that  men  advance  most  rapidly. " 

"Wonder  if  that  wasn't  what  Humboldt 
meant/'  said  Irv,  "  when  he  called  the  banana 
c  the  curse  of  the  tropics/  adding  that  when 
a  man  planted  one  banana  tree  he  provided 
food  enough  for  himself  and  his  descendants 
to  the  tenth  generation,  in  a  climate  where 
there  is  no  real  necessity  for  clothes." 

"  Exactly,"  said  Ed.  "  Somebody  once 
said  that  c  every  man  is  as  lazy  as  he  dares 
to  be.'  " 

"Well,  I  am,  anyhow,"  yawned  Irv,  "and 
so  I'm  going  up  on  deck  under  the  awning 
to  make  up  some  of  that  sleep  I  lost  last 
night." 


CHAPTER  XIX 

SCUTTLE    CHATTER 

The  pocket  in  which  The  Last  of  the  Flat- 
boats  lay  at  anchor  was  well  out  of  the  path 
of  passing  steamboats.  It  was  also  pretty- 
free  from  drift-wood,  except  of  the  smaller 
sort.  So  there  was  nothing  of  any  conse- 
quence to  be  done  during  the  two  days  of 
waiting.  It  was  necessary  to  pump  a  little 
now  and  then,  as  the  very  tightest  boat  will 
let  in  a  little  bilge  water,  especially  when  she 
is  as  heavily  loaded  as  this  one  was.  There 
were  what  Irv  Strong  called  "  the  inevitable 
three  meals  a  day  "  to  get,  but  beyond  that 
there  was  nothing  whatever  to  do. 

Ed's  books  were  a  good  deal  in  demand 
at  this  time.  Irv  and  Phil  managed  to  do 
some  swimming  in  spite  of  the  drift-wood 
and  the  coldness  of  the  water.  For  the  rest, 
the  boys  lounged  about  on  the  deck,  with 
now  and  then  a  "  long  talk  "  at  the  scuttle 
or  in  the  cabin  if  it  rained.  Their  "  long 
talks  "  on  deck  were  always  held  around  the 
179 


180    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

scuttle,  so  that  the  one  on  guard  over 
Hughes  might  take  part  in  them.  There 
were  only  five  steps  to  the  little  ladder  that 
led  from  deck  to  cabin,  and  by  sitting  on 
the  middle  one  the  boy  on  guard  could  keep 
his  feet  on  the  edge  of  the  prisoner's  bunk 
and  let  his  head  protrude  above  the  deck. 

They  had  naturally  been  thinking  a  good 
deal  about  what  Ed  had  told  them  concern- 
ing food,  and  now  and  then  a  question  would 
arise  in  the  mind  of  one  or  another  of  them 
which  would  set  the  conversation  going 
again. 

"I  wonder,"  said  Will  Moreraud,  "  how 
men  first  found  out  what  things  were  good 
to  eat  ? " 

"  By  trying  them,  I  guess,"  said  Phil. 
"  I  read  in  a  book  somewhere  that  whenever 
the  primitive  man  saw  a  new  beast  he  asked 
first,  c  can  he  eat  me  ? '  and  next,  c  can  I  eat 
him  ? ' " 

"  Yes,"  said  Ed,  "  and  that  sort  of  thing 
continued  until  our  own  time,  when  science 
came  in  to  help  us.  You  know  where  the 
jimson  weed  got  its  name,  don't  you  ?  " 

None  of  them  had  ever  heard. 

"Well,  c jimson'  is  only  a  corruption  of 
6  Jamestown.'  When  the  early  settlers  landed 


SCUTTLE   CHATTER  181 

at  Jamestown  they  found  so  many  new 
kinds  of  grain,  and  animals,  and  plants  that 
they  began  trying  them  to  see  which  were 
good  and  which  were  not.  Among  other 
things  they  thought  the  burs  of  the  jimson 
weed  —  the  poisonous  thorn-apple  of  stra- 
monium—  looked  rather  inviting.  So  they 
boiled  a  lot  of  the  burs  and  ate  them.  Like 
idiots,  they  didn't  confine  the  experiment  to 
one  man,  or  better  still  c  try  it  on  a  dog,' 
but  set  to  work,  a  lot  of  them  at  once,  to  eat 
the  stuff.  It  poisoned  them,  of  course,  and 
made  a  great  sensation  in  Jamestown.  So 
they  named  the  plant  the  Jamestown  weed/' 

"  I  remember,"  said  Irv,  "  my  grand- 
father telling  me  that  when  he  was  young, 
people  thought  tomatoes  were  poisonous, 
and  he  said  it  took  a  long  time  for  those 
that  tried  them  to  teach  other  people  better." 

"That's  what  I  had  in  my  mind,"  said 
Ed,  "when  I  said  that  there  was  no  known 
way  to  find  out  whether  things  were  good  to 
eat  or  not  except  by  trying  them,  till  mod- 
ern science  came  to  our  aid." 

"  How  does  modern  science  manage  it  ?  " 
asked  Will. 

"Well,  if  any  new  fruit  or  vegetable 
should  turn  up  now,  a  chemist  would  analyze 


1 82    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

it  to  find  out  just  what  it  was  composed  of. 
Then  the  doctors  who  make  a  study  of  such 
things  would  c  try  it  on  a  dog/  or  more 
likely  on  a  rabbit  or  guinea  pig,  to  find  out 
if  it  had  any  value  as  a  medicine.  They  try 
every  new  substance  in  that  way  in  fact, 
whether  it  is  an  original  substance  just  dis- 
covered or  some  new  compound.  They 
even  tried  nitro-glycerine,  and  found  it  to 
be  a  very  valuable  medicine.  So,  too,  they 
have  got  some  of  our  most  valuable  drugs 
from  coal  oil,  simply  by  trying  them." 

"  Good  for  modern  science  ! "  said  Phil. 
"  But,  Ed,  what  were  the  other  new  things 
the  colonists  found  in  this  country  ?  " 

"  There  were  many.  But  those  that  have 
proved  of  most  importance  are  corn,  to- 
bacco, tomatoes,  watermelons,  turkeys,  Irish 
potatoes,  and  sweet  potatoes." 

"  Oh,  come  now,"  said  Irv,  raising  his 
head  and  resting  it  on  his  hand,  "  you  said 
Irish  potatoes." 

"  And  why  not  ?  They  are  a  very  im- 
portant product,  and  the  crop  of  them  sells 
for  many  millions  of —  " 

"But  they  didn't  originate  in  this  coun- 
try, did  they  ?  Weren't  they  brought  here 
from  Ireland? " 


SCUTTLE    CHATTER  183 

"  Not  at  all.  They  were  taken  from  here 
to  Ireland." 

"  Then  why  are  they  called  Irish  pota- 
toes ? " 

"  Because  they  proved  to  be  so  much  the 
most  profitable  crop  the  Irish  people  could 
raise  that  they  soon  came  to  be  the  chief 
crop  grown  there.  I  don't  know  whether 
the  colonists  found  any  of  them  growing 
wild  in  Virginia  or  not.  They  are  sup- 
posed to  have  originated  in  South  America 
and  Mexico.  At  any  rate,  they  are  strictly 
native  Americans.  By  the  way,"  said  Ed, 
"  the  people  who  thought  tomatoes  poison- 
ous were  not  so  very  far  out  in  their  reckon- 
ing. Both  the  tomato  and  the  potato  are 
plants  belonging  to  the  deadly  nightshade 
family,  and  the  vines  of  both  contain  a  vir- 
ulent poison." 

"  Perhaps  somebody  tried  tomato  vines 
for  greens,"  said  Phil,  "and  got  himself 
ready  for  the  coroner  before  the  tomatoes 
had  time  to  grow  and  ripen." 

"That  isn't  unlikely,"  said  Ed.  "At 
any  rate,  an  experiment  of  that  kind  would 
have  gone  far  to  give  the  fruit  a  bad  name." 

"  However  that  may  be,"  said  Irv,  "  it  is 
pretty  certain  that  men  must  have  found  out 


1 84    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

what  was  and  what  wasn't  good  to  eat 
mainly  by  trying.  There's  salt  now.  It  is 
the  only  mineral  substance  that  men  every- 
where eat.  All  the  rest  of  our  foods  are 
either  animal  or  vegetable.,, 

"  And  that's  a  puzzle/'  replied  Ed. 
"  Man  must  have  got  a  very  early  taste  of 
salt,  or  else  there  wouldn't  be  any  man." 

«  How's  that  ?  " 

"  Why,  the  human  animal  simply  can't 
live  without  salt.  He  digests  his  food  by 
means  of  an  acid  which  he  gets  from  salt, 
and  from  nothing  else  whatever.  So  he 
must  have  had  salt  from  the  beginning." 

"  The  Garden  of  Eden  must  have  been  a 
seaport  then,"  mused  Phil.  "  Adam  and 
Eve  probably  boiled  their  new  potatoes  in 
water  dipped  up  from  the  docks." 

The  boys  laughed,  and  Ed  continued :  — 

"It  is  a  curious  fact  that  the  ancients, 
even  as  late  as  Greek  times,  knew  nothing 
about  sugar ;  at  least,  in  its  pure  state.  They 
got  a  good  deal  of  it  in  fruits  and  vegetables, 
of  course,  and  the  Greeks  used  honey  very 
lavishly.  They  not  only  ate  it,  but  they 
made  an  intoxicating  liquor  out  of  it  which 
they  called  mead.  But  of  sugar,  pure  and 
simple,  they  knew  nothing  whatever.    Their 


SCUTTLE   CHATTER  185 

language  hasn't  even  a  word  for  it.  Yet  in 
our  time  sugar  is  one  of  the  most  important 
products  in  the  world,  so  important  that 
many  nations  pay  large  bounties  to  encour- 
age its  cultivation. " 

"  By  the  way,"  asked  Phil,  after  a  few 
moments'  meditation,  "  what  is  the  most 
important  crop  in  this  country  ?  " 

"  Wheat "  —  "  cotton,"  answered  Will  and 
Constant  respectively. 

"  No,"  said  Ed,  "  corn  is  very  much  our 
most  important  crop." 

"  More  so  than  wheat  ?  " 

"  Four  to  one  and  more,"  said  Ed.  "  Our 
corn  crop  amounts  to  about  two  thousand 
million  bushels  every  year  —  often  greatly 
more.  Our  wheat  crop  averages  about  five 
hundred  million  bushels.  And  as  corn  has 
more  food  value  in  it,  pound  for  pound,  than 
wheat  has,  it  is  easy  to  see  that  not  only  for 
us,  but  for  all  the  world,  our  corn  crop  is  quite 
four  to  one  more  important  that  our  wheat." 

"  But  I  thought  corn  wasn't  eaten  much 
except  in  this  country  ? "  queried  Irv.  "  The 
Germans  and  French  and  English  don't  eat 
it." 

"  Don't  they,  though  ? "  asked  Ed,  with  a 
quizzical  look.     "  Don't  they  eat  enormous 


1 86    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

quantities  of  American  pork,  bacon,  and 
beef?  And  what  is  that  but  American  corn 
in  another  shape  ?  " 

"That's  so,"  said  Irv,  this  time  sitting 
bolt  upright.  "  I've  heard  that  the  big 
farmers  all  over  the  West  keep  tab  on  the 
price  of  meat  and  corn.  If  meat  is  high  and 
corn  low,  they  bring  up  all  their  hogs  from 
the  woods,  fatten  them  on  the  corn  and  sell 
them.  But  if  meat  is  low  or  corn  high, 
they  sell  the  corn." 

"  And  they  know  to  the  nicest  fraction  of 
a  pound,"  added  Ed,  "how  much  corn  it 
takes  to  make  a  given  amount  of  pork." 

"  Well,  even  if  we  didn't  sell  any  corn  at 
all  to  other  nations,"  said  Phil,  "  I  should 
think  our  crop  would  help  them.  We  eat  a 
great  deal  of  it,  and  if  we  hadn't  it,  we'd  eat 
just  so  much  wheat  instead,  and  so  we  should 
have  just  that  much  less  wheat  to  sell  to 
them." 

"  Exactly,"  said  Ed.  "  Every  thing  that 
feeds  a  man  in  any  country  leaves  precisely 
that  much  more  to  feed  other  men  with  in 
other  countries." 

"And  what  a  lot  it  does  take  to  feed  a 
man  !  "  exclaimed  Will. 

"  Not  so  much  as  you  probably  imagine," 


SCUTTLE   CHATTER  187 

said  Ed.  "  A  robust  man  requires  about  a 
pound  and  a  half  of  meat  and  a  pound  and 
a  half  of  bread  per  day.  Vegetables  are  sim- 
ply substitutes  for  bread  and  cost  about  the 
same.  Eggs,  milk,  etc.,  take  the  place  of 
meat  and  cost  less.  So  by  reckoning  on 
three  pounds  of  food  a  day,  half  meat  and 
half  bread,  or  their  equivalents,  we  find  that 
a  strong,  healthy,  hard-working  man  can  be 
fed  at  a  cost  of  about  fifteen  cents  a  day. 
The  coarser  and  more  nutritious  parts  of 
beef  and  mutton  and  good  sound  pork  can 
be  bought  at  retail  at  an  average  of  eight 
cents  a  pound  —  often  much  less.  The 
man's  meat,  therefore,  will  cost  him  twelve 
cents  a  day  or  less.  Good  flour  can  be  had 
at  about  two  cents  a  pound.  The  man's 
bread  will,  therefore,  cost  him  about  three 
cents  a  day,  making  the  total  cost  of  his  food 
about  fifteen  cents  a  day,  or  less  than  fifty- 
five  dollars  a  year." 

"  But  it  costs  something  to  cook  it,"  said 
Phil. 

"Yes,  but  not  much.  I  have  calculated 
only  the  actual  cost  of  the  raw  materials,  but 
my  figures  are  too  high  rather  than  too 
low,  for  corned  beef  and  chuck  steaks  are 
often  sold  at  retail  as  low  as  three  or  four 


1 88    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

cents  a  pound,  and  neck  pieces,  heads,  hearts, 
livers,  and  kidneys  even  lower,  while  I  have 
allowed  eight  cents  a  pound  as  an  average  price 
for  all  the  meat  that  the  man  eats.  Now, 
allowing  for  the  cost  of  cooking  and  for 
unavoidable  waste,  I  reckon  that  a  strong, 
healthy  American  citizen  can  feed  himself 
abundantly  on  less  than  seventy-five  dollars 
a  year." 

"  But  what  if  he  can't  get  the  seventy-five 
dollars  ?  "  asked  Will. 

"In  this  country  any  man  in  tolerable 
health  can  get  it  easily.  There  is  no  excuse 
in  this  country  for  what  somebody  calls  c  the 
poverty  that  suffers,'  at  any  rate  among 
people  who  have  health.  Why,  one  hun- 
dred dollars  a  year  is  a  good  deal  less  than 
thirty  cents  a  day,  and  anybody  can  earn 
that." 

"  What  does  cause  c  the  poverty  that  suf- 
fers,' then  ?  "  asked  Will. 

"  Drink,  mainly,"  broke  in  Phil. 

"  By  the  way,"  said  Irv,  looking  up  from 
some  figures  he  had  been  making,  "  does  it 
occur  to  you  that  our  corn  crop  alone,  even 
if  we  produced  nothing  else  in  the  world, 
would  furnish  food  enough  for  all  the  people 
in  this  country  ?  " 


SCUTTLE   CHATTER  189 

"  No  ;  how  do  you  figure  it,  Irv  ?  "  asked 
Will. 

"Why,  Ed  says  the  corn  crop  amounts 
to  2,000,000,000  bushels.  There  are  56 
pounds  in  a  bushel,  or  112,000,000,000 
pounds  in  the  crop.  That  would  give  every 
man,  woman,  and  child  in  our  70,000,000 
population  1600  pounds  of  corn  per  year,  or 
pretty  nearly  four  and  a  half  pounds  apiece 
each  day  in  the  year,  while  Ed  says  no  man 
needs  more  than  three  pounds  of  food  per 
day.  So  the  corn  crop,  whether  eaten  as 
bread  or  partly  in  the  shape  of  meat,  fur- 
nishes a  great  deal  more  food  than  the 
American  people  can  possibly  eat.  No 
wonder  we  ship  such  vast  quantities  of  food- 
stuffs abroad  ! " 

"  That's  encouraging,"  said  Phil ;  "  but 
it's  bedtime.  Hie  ye  to  your  bunks ! 
Whose  watch  is   it  ?  " 

And  so  the  scuttle  chatter  ended. 


CHAPTER   XX 


AT    MEMPHIS 


About  ten  or  twenty  miles  above  Mem- 
phis the  flatboat  met  a  steamboat.  It  was 
out  looking  for  the  flatboat.  Not  only  had 
bank  officers  and  law  officers  arrived  at 
Memphis,  but  they  had  become  so  appre- 
hensive at  the  delay  of  the  flatboat  that  they 
had  chartered  the  steamboat  and  gone  in 
search  of  her. 

One  of  the  bank  officers  came  aboard, 
and  to  him  Phil  explained  the  situation, 
receiving  in  return  the  warmest  congratu- 
lations upon  the  capture. 

"  We'll  take  you  in  tow,"  said  the  bank 
officer.  "That  will  hurry  matters,  and 
we've  men  waiting  at  the  wharf  with  all  the 
necessary  papers  and  arrest  warrants." 

"  But  you  must  land  us  above  or  below 
the  town,"  said  Phil. 

"  Why  ?     Why  not  at  the  wharf?  " 

"  Because  we're  making  this  voyage  as 
190 


AT   MEMPHIS  191 

cheaply  as  possible,  and  mustn't  pay  any 
unnecessary  wharfage  fees." 

"  Wharfage  fees  be  hanged  !  "  replied  the 
man.  "  I'll  take  care  of  all  that.  Why,  I'd 
pay  your  wharfage  fees  at  every  landing 
from  here  to  New  Orleans.  I'd  buy  your 
flatboat  and  all  her  cargo  ten  times  over. 
Why,  my  boy,  you  don't  know  what  a  big 
piece  of  work  you've  done,  or  how  grateful 
we  are.  Wharfage  fees ! "  with  an  accent 
of  amused  disgust.  "  What  are  wharfage 
fees  when  you've  caught  the  fellow  and 
secured  the  plunder  ?  And  even  that  isn't 
the  best  of  it.  The  letters  you've  got"  — 
for  Phil  had  outlined  their  contents  in  his 
telegram  to  Cincinnati  —  "  have  enabled  us 
to  arrest  the  whole  gang  already.  We've 
got  'em  all,  and  you're  entitled  to  the  credit 
of  enabling  us  to  break  up  the  strongest 
band  of  bank  robbers  that  was  ever  organ- 
ized in  this  country.  So  —  "  signalling  to 
the  steamer  — "  send  a  line  aboard  and 
we'll  be  at  Memphis  in  an  hour  or  two. 
In  the  meantime  you  and  your  companions 
must  take  breakfast  on  the  steamboat." 

The  flatboat  was  quickly  made  fast  at  the 
side  of  the  steamer,  and  three  of  the  boys 
went  aboard    for   breakfast,   the   other    two 


i92    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

following  when  the  first  three  returned. 
For  until  all  legal  forms  should  be  com- 
pleted, and  Jim  Hughes  safely  delivered 
to  the  officers  of  the  law,  Phil  had  no 
notion  of  leaving  that  worthy  or  the  flatboat 
holding  him,  in  charge  of  anybody  except 
himself  or  his  comrades.  When  he  him- 
self went  to  breakfast,  he  left  Irv  Strong 
in  command,  with  Constant  for  his  assist- 
ant, and  Ed  as  guard  over  Hughes  in  the 
cabin. 

At  Memphis  the  legal  formalities  were 
conducted  on  the  part  of  the  boys  by  a  law- 
yer whom  Phil  employed  to  see  to  it  that 
their  interests  should  be  guarded.  They  lay 
there  for  two  days.  Jim  Hughes  was  deliv- 
ered to  the  authorities.  The  reward  of  five 
thousand  dollars  was  paid  over  to  Phil  in 
currency.  He  divided  the  money  equally 
among  the  crew.  But  as  it  would  never  do 
to  carry  so  great  a  sum  with  them  on  the 
flatboat,  they  converted  it  into  drafts  on 
New  York,  which  all  the  boys  sent  to  the 
bank  in  Vevay,  the  money  to  be  held  there 
till  their  return. 

As  to  supplies  for  the  flatboat,  the  Cincin- 
nati banker  made  some  lavish  gifts.  He 
sent  on  board  fresh  beef  enough  to  last  sev- 


AT    MEMPHIS  193 

eral  days,  four  hams,  two  strips  of  bacon, 
two  pieces  of  dried  beef,  ten  pounds  of  cof- 
fee, five  pounds  of  tea,  a  bag  of  flour,  a  sack 
of  salt,  a  dozen  loaves  of  fresh  bread,  a  big 
box  of  crackers,  five  pounds  of  butter,  a  bas- 
ket of  eggs,  two  or  three  cases  of  canned 
vegetables  and  fruits,  some  canned  soups,  a 
large  can  of  milk  packed  in  ice,  a  sack  of 
dried  beans,  a  bunch  of  bananas,  a  box  of 
oranges,  and  finally,  a  large,  iced  cake  with 
miniature  American  flags  stuck  all  over  it. 

"  I  can  talk  now,"  said  Hughes  to  Ed, 
after  the  law  officers  had  received  and  hand- 
cuffed him  ;  "and  I've  got  just  one  thing  to 
say.  I  never  had  anything  against  any  of 
you  fellows  except  that  brother  Phil  of  yours. 
But  for  his  meddling,  I'd  be  a  free  man  now. 
I've  cgot  it  in  for'  him." 

"  Oh,  as  to  that,"  drawled  Irv  Strong, 
"by  the  time  you've  served  your  ten  or 
twenty  years  in  State  Prison,  I  imagine  Phil 
will  be  sufficiently  grown  up  to  hold  his  own 
with  you.  He's  a  c  pretty  sizable '  fellow 
even  now,  for  his  age." 

"Tell  us  something  more  interesting, 
Jim,"  said  Will  Moreraud.  "Tell  us  why 
you  tried  to  run  us  on  Vevay  Bar  and  again 
on  Craig's  Bar." 


i94    THE   LAST    OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

"  I  didn't  try  to  run  you  on  them.  I 
tried  to  run  you  behind  them  into  the  Ken- 
tucky shore  channel." 

"  What  for  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  was  in  a  hurry  to  get  down  the 
river,  and  I  didn't  want  you  to  make  that 
long  stop  at  Craig's  Landing.  If  I  could 
have  run  you  behind  those  bars,  you'd  have 
been  at  Carrollton  before  you  could  pull  up, 
and  of  course  it  wouldn't  have  paid  you  to 
get  the  boat  towed  back  up  the  river.  I  was 
trying  to  hurry,  that's  all ;  and  I  knew  the 
river  better  than  Captain  Phil  suspected." 

That  was  all  of  farewell  there  was  between 
the  crew  of  The  Last  of  the  Flatboats  and 
her  late  pilot.  When  some  one  suggested  to 
Phil  that  he  should  speak  for  the  party  and 
express  regret  at  the  necessity  that  had  gov- 
erned their  course,  Phil  said  :  — 

"  But  I  don't  feel  the  least  regret.  I  am 
glad  we've  secured  him  and  his  gang.  It 
restores  a  lot  of  plunder  to  the  people  to 
whom  it  belongs ;  it  breaks  up  a  very  dan- 
gerous band  of  burglars ;  and  it  will  help 
teach  other  persons  of  that  kind  how  risky 
it  is  to  live  by  law-breaking.  Perhaps  it 
will  help  to  keep  many  people  honest.  No,^ 
I'm  not  sorry  that  we've  been  able  to  render 


AT   MEMPHIS  195 

so  great  a  service  to  the  public,  and  I'm  not 
going  to  pretend  that  I  am." 

"You're  right,  Phil,"  said  Ed. 

"Of  course  he  is,"  said  Irv;  "and  as  for 
Jim  Hughes,  he  will  get  only  what  he  de- 
serves. If  there  were  no  laws,  or  if  they 
were  not  enforced  by  the  punishment  of 
crime,  there  wouldn't  be  much  c  show '  for 
honest  people  in  this  world." 

"  There  wouldn't  be  any  honest  people,  I 
reckon,"  said  Will,  "  for  honest  people  sim- 
ply couldn't  live.  Everybody  would  have  to 
turn  savage  and  robber,  or  starve  to  death." 

"  Yes,"  said  Ed.  "  That's  how  law  origi- 
nated, and  civilization  is  simply  a  state  of 
existence  in  which  there  are  laws  enough  to 
restrain  wrong.  When  the  savage  finds  that 
he  can't  defend  himself  single-handed  against 
murder  and  robbery,  he  joins  with  other 
savages  for  that  purpose.  That  makes  a 
tribe.  It  must  have  rules  to  govern  it,  and 
they  are  laws.  It  is  out  of  the  tribal  organi- 
zation that  all  civilized  society  has  grown, 
mainly  by  the  making  of  better  and  better 
laws,  or  by  the  better  and  better  enforcement 
of  laws  already  made." 

"  Then  are  we  all  savages,  restrained  only 
by    law    from    indulging    in    every    sort   of 


196    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

crime  ?"  asked  Phil.  "I,  for  one,  don't 
feel  myself  to  be  in  that  condition  of  mind." 

"  By  no  means,"  replied  the  elder  boy. 
"  We  are  the  products  of  habit  and  heredity. 
We  have  lost  most  of  our  savage  instincts  by 
having  restrained  them  through  generations, 
just  as  cows  and  dogs  have  done.  You  see, 
it  is  a  law  of  nature  that  parents  are  apt 
to  transmit  their  own  characteristics  to  their 
children.  As  one  of  the  great  scientific 
writers  puts  it,  c  the  habit  of  one  generation 
is  the  instinct  of  the  next/  If  you  want, a 
dog  to  hunt  with,  you  choose  one  whose 
ancestors  have  been  in  the  habit  of  hunting, 
because  you  know  that  he  has  inherited  the 
habit  as  an  instinct.  Yet  the  highest-bred 
setters,  pointers,  and  fox  hounds  are  all 
descended  ultimately  from  a  common  ances- 
try of  wild  dogs,  as  fierce,  probably,  as  any 
wolf  ever  was.  They  have  been  for  many 
generations  under  law,  —  the  law  of  man's 
control,  —  and  so  they  have  not  only  lost 
their  wildness,  but  have  acquired  new  in- 
stincts, new  capacities,  and  a  new  intelli- 
gence." 

"  I  see,"  said  Phil,  meditatively.  "  It  is 
a  long-continued  course  of  timely  spanking 
that  has  slowly  changed  us  from  savages  into 


AT   MEMPHIS  197 

fellows  able  to  run  a  flatboat  and  inclined  to 
wear  trousers. " 

"  Ah,  as  to  that/'  said  Irv,  "we  haven't 
quite  got  rid  of  our  savage  instincts  even 
yet.  I  for  one  am  savagely  hungry  for 
some  of  that  beef  our  Cincinnati  friend  sent 
on  board,  and  I  suspect  the  rest  of  the  tribe 
are  in  the  same  condition." 


CHAPTER  XXI 

A    WRESTLE    WITH    THE    RIVER 

After  the  boat  left  Memphis  it  was  nec- 
essary to  proceed  with  a  good  deal  of  cau- 
tion. A  new  flood  had  come  down  the 
river,  bringing  with  it  a  dangerous  drift  of 
uprooted  trees  and  the  like.  Moreover,  in 
many  places  there  were  strong  currents  set- 
ting out  from  the  natural  river-bed  into  the 
overflowed  regions  on  either  side,  and  con- 
stant care  was  necessary  to  avoid  being 
drawn  into  these. 

Memphis  is  built  upon  the  high  Chicka- 
saw bluffs,  but  a  little  way  farther  down  the 
river  the  country  becomes  low  and  flat,  and 
in  parts  it  grows  steadily  lower  as  it  recedes 
from  the  river,  so  that  at  some  distance 
inland  the  plantations  and  woodlands  lie 
actually  lower  than  the  bed  of  the  great 
river.  It  has  been  said,  indeed,  with  a  good 
deal  of  truth,  that  the  Mississippi  River 
runs  along  on  the  top  of  a  ridge. 

"  How  did  it  come  to  do  that  ? "  asked 
198 


A   WRESTLE    WITH    THE    RIVER     199 

Will.  "  Why  didn't  it  find  its  level  as  water 
generally  does  —  " 

"And  as  men  ought  to  do,  but  usually 
don't/'  said  Irv. 

"  It  did  at  first,  of  course/'  said  Ed. 
"  But  whenever  it  got  on  a  rampage  like 
this,  it  took  all  the  region  along  its  course 
for  its  right  of  way.  It  spread  itself  out 
over  the  country  and  went  whithersoever  it 
chose.  Then  came  men  who  wanted  its 
rich  bottom  lands  for  farms.  So  they  built 
earth  levees  to  keep  the  river  off  their  lands. 
As  more  and  more  lands  were  brought  under 
cultivation,  more  and  more  of  these  embank- 
ments were  built,  and  the  river  was  more 
and  more  restrained.  Now  there  is  nothing 
in  the  world  that  resists  and  resents  restraint 
more  than  water  does.  So.  the  river  breaks 
through  the  levees  every  now  and  then  and 
floods  the  plantations,  drowning  cattle, 
sweeping  away  crops  and  houses,  and  creat- 
ing local  famines  that  must  be  relieved  from 
the  outside." 

Before  beginning  his  explanation  Ed  had 
dipped  up  a  glassful  of  the  river  water  and 
set  it  on  the  deck.  It  was  thick  with  mud, 
so  that  it  looked  more  like  water  from  a  hog 
wallow  than  water  from  a  river.     He  turned 


200    THE    LAST    OF   THE    FLATBOATS 

now  and  gently  took  up  the  glass.  There 
was  a  deep  sediment  in  the  bottom  and  the 
water  above  was  beginning  to  grow  some- 
what clearer. 

"  Look  here/'  said  the  boy.  "  If  we  let 
that  water  sit  still  long  enough,  all  the  mud 
would  sink  to  the  bottom  and  the  water 
above  would  become  clear.  That's  what  we 
should  have  to  do  with  our  drinking  and 
cooking  water  on  this  boat  if  we  hadn't 
brought  a  filter  along.  Now  you  see  that 
the  water  of  this  river  is  carrying  more  mud 
than  it  can  keep  dissolved.  This  mud  is 
sinking  to  the  bottom  all  the  way  from  St. 
Louis  to  New  Orleans.  It  is  building  up^ 
the  bottom,  raising  it  year  by  year,  and  so 
raising  the  river  higher  and  higher.  When 
the  river  was  left  free,  the  same  thing  hap- 
pened, but  whenever  a  flood  came  it  would 
leave  its  built-up  bed,  run  over  its  banks, 
and  cut  new  channels  for  itself  in  the  lowest 
country  it  could  find.  There  are  many 
lakes  and  ponds  well  away  from  the  present 
river  that  were  obviously  a  part  of  the  chan- 
nel once. 

"  When  men  began  confining  the  river 
within  its  banks  at  all  but  the  highest  stages 
of  water,  and  in  many  places  at  all  stages,  it 


A   WRESTLE   WITH   THE   RIVER     201 

couldn't  leave  its  old  channels  for  new  ones, 
no  matter  how  much  it  had  built  up  the 
bottom,  and  so  the  bed  of  the  river  steadily- 
rose  from  year  to  year.  That  made  the  sur- 
face of  the  flood  water  higher,  and  so  men  had 
to  build  higher  and  higher  levees  to  keep  the 
floods  from  burying  their  plantations.  As 
they  have  nothing  better  to  make  their  em- 
bankments out  of  than  the  soft  sandy  loam 
of  the  bottom  lands,  the  levees  are  not  very 
strong  at  best,  and  the  higher  they  are  raised, 
the  greater  is  the  water  pressure  against 
them  when  the  river  is  up.  So  they  often 
give  way,  and  when  they  do  that  the  river 
rushes  through  the  gap,  or  crevasse,  as  it  is 
called,  rapidly  widening  and  deepening  it, 
and  pouring  a  torrent  over  all  the  country 
within  reach.  In  such  a  flood  as  this 
men  are  kept  watching  the  levees  day  and 
night  to  stop  every  little  leak,  lest  it  become 
a  crevasse,  and  it  is  often  necessary  to  forbid 
steamboats  to  pass  near  the  shore,  because 
the  swells  they  make  would  wash  over  the 
tops  of  the  levees  and  start  crevasses  in  that 
way.  Sometimes  a  strong  wind  pushes  the 
water  up  enough  to  break  a  levee  and  destroy 
hundreds  of  lives  and  millions  of  dollars' 
worth  of  property,  for  when  a  levee  breaks, 


202    THE   LAST    OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

the  region  behind  it  is  flooded  too  rapidly 
to  permit  much  more  than  escape  alive,  and 
often  it  doesn't  permit  even  that." 

"  What  a  destructive  old  demon  this  river 
is  !  "  said  Irv. 

"Yes,  at  times/'  replied  the  elder  boy. 
"  But  it  does  a  lot  of  good  work  as  well  as 
bad.  It  created  all  the  lands  that  it  over- 
flows, and  if  man  tries  to  rob  it  of  its  own,  I 
don't  see  why  it  is  to  be  blamed  for  defend- 
ing its  possessions." 

"  How  do  you  mean  that  it  created  all  the 
lands  that  it  overflows  ? "  asked  Constant, 
who  always  wanted  to  learn  all  he  could. 

"  Why,  the  geologists  say  that  the  Gulf  of  ~. 
Mexico  used  to  extend  to  Cairo,  covering 
all  the  flat  region  in  the  Mississippi  Valley 
south,  except  here  and  there  a  high  spot  like 
that  on  which  Memphis  stands.  The  high 
spots  were  islands  in  the  Gulf." 

"  But  where  did  the  land  come  from 
then?" 

"  Why,  the  Mississippi  built  it  with  its 
mud.  It  carries  enough  mud  at  all  times  s 
to  make  half  a  state,  if  it  were  all  brought 
together.  When  the  river's  mouth  was  at 
Cairo,  the  river  kept  pouring  mud  into  the 
Gulf.     The  mud  sank,  and  in  that  way  the 


A   WRESTLE   WITH    THE    RIVER     203 

shore-line  was  extended  farther  and  farther 
south,  spreading  to  the  right  and  left  as  it 
went.  The  river  is  still  doing  this  down  at 
its-  mouth  below  New  Orleans,  and  it  has 
been  doing  it  for  millions  of  years.  It  has 
simply  filled  in  all  that  part  of  the  Gulf  that 
once  covered  eastern  Arkansas,  Louisiana, 
Mississippi,  and  the  lower  parts  of  Ken- 
tucky, Tennessee,  and  Missouri." 

"  But  why  don't  other  rivers  do  the  same 
thing  ?  "  asked  Constant. 

"  They  do,  in  a  degree,"  said  Ed.  "  You 
know  there  is  always  a  bar  in  the  sea  just  off 
the  mouth  of  a  river." 

"Yes,  but  — " 

"  Well,  most  rivers  carry  very  little  mud 
in  their  water,  and  that  little  goes  to  make 
the  bar  at  the  mouth.  The  Mississippi  car- 
ries so  much  mud  that  its  bars  become  land, 
and  the  river  cuts  a  channel  through  them, 
carrying  its  mud  still  farther  into  the  sea. 
Then  again,  the  Mississippi  has  floods  every 
year  or  twice  a  year,  and  in  some  years  three 
times,  such  as  most  rivers  never  have.  This 
is  because  it  carries  in  a  single  channel  the 
water  from  twenty-eight  states  and  a  terri- 
tory, as  we  saw  on  the  map  one  day  up  the 
river.     Now  as  soon  as  the  river  mud  forms 


2o4    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

a  bar  that  shows  above  water,  vegetation  be- 
gins to  grow  on  it.  When  the  next  flood 
comes,  it  covers  the  new-made  land  and 
builds  it  higher  by  depositing  a  great  deal 
more  mud  on  top  of  it  and  among  the  vege- 
tation, which,  by  checking  the  current  at 
the  bottom,  helps  the  mud  to  lodge  there. 
In  that  way,  all  the  lowlands  for  hundreds 
of  miles  along  this  river  were  created.  It 
took  hundreds  of  thousands  of  years  —  per- 
haps millions  of  years  —  to  do  it,  but  it  was 
done." 

Ed  did  not  give  this  long  explanation  all 
in  one  speech.  He  was  interrupted  many 
times  by  Phil's  call  of  all  hands  to  the 
sweeps,  when  rowing  was  necessary,  and  by 
other  matters  of  duty,  which  it  has  not  been 
necessary  to  detail  here. 

Whenever  it  was  possible  to  land  the  boat 
for  the  night,  the  boys  did  so,  and  when  no 
banks  were  in  sight  where  a  mooring  could 
be  made,  they  sought  for  some  bend  or 
pocket  reasonably  free  from  the  more  dan- 
gerous kinds  of  drift,  and  came  to  anchor 
for  safety  during  the  hours  of  darkness. 
Navigation  was  difficult  and  perilous  now 
even  in  daytime  when  they  could  make  out 
the  course  of  the  river    by  sight  and  keep 


A   WRESTLE   WITH    THE   RIVER     205 

away  from  treacherous  shore  currents,  for 
the  drift  was  very  heavy.  By  night  it  was 
doubly  dangerous. 

Even  in  the  daytime  Phil  kept  the  entire 
crew  on  deck  at  all  times  except  when  one 
of  them  went  below  to  prepare  food.  Their 
meals  were  eaten  on  deck  with  a  broad 
plank  for  table,  even  when  it  rained  heavily, 
as  it  very  often  did.  They  slept  on  deck, 
too,  under  a  rude  shelter  made  of  the  tar- 
paulin. All  this  Phil  regarded  as  necessary 
under  the  circumstances.  Even  when  tied 
up  to  the  trees  or  anchored  in  the  snuggest 
cove  to  be  found,  it  was  sometimes  neces- 
sary to  jump  into  skiffs  and  "fend  off" 
great  threatening  masses  of  drift.  To  this 
duty  the  calls  were  very  frequent  indeed. 

Poor  Phil  got  scarcely  any  sleep  at  all 
during  these  trying  days  and  nights.  The 
sense  of  responsibility  was  so  strong  upon 
him  that  he  scarcely  dared  relax  his  personal 
watchfulness  for  a  moment.  But  under  the 
urgent  pleadings  of  his  comrades  he  would 
now  and  then  leave  another  on  duty  in  his 
place  and  throw  himself  down  for  a  nap. 
He  did  this  only  when  the  conditions 
seemed  most  favorable,  and  usually  even 
then  he  was  up  again  within  the  half  hour. 


206    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

The  escapes  of  the  boat  from  damage  or 
destruction  were  many  and  narrow,  even 
under  this  ceaseless  watching,  and  the  strain 
at  last  began  to  show  its  effects  upon  the 
tough  nerves  of  Captain  Phil.  He  almost 
lived  upon  strong  coffee.  The  coffee  was 
an  excellent  thing  for  him  under  the  circum- 
stances, but  his  neglect  to  take  other  food 
was  a  dangerous  mistake.  He  was  still 
strong  of  body,  but  he  was  growing  nervous 
and  even  a  trifle  irritable. 

His  comrades  remonstrated  with  him  for 
not  sleeping,  and  begged  him  to  eat. 

"I  don't  want  to  eat,  I  tell  you,"  he  said, 
with  much  irritation  in  his  voice. 

"  But  you'll  break  down,  Phil,  if  you  keep 
this  up,"  said  Ed,  "and  then  where  shall 
we  be  ?  Without  your  judgment  and  quick- 
ness to  see  the  right  thing  at  a  critical 
moment  this  boat  would  have  gone  to  the 
bottom  days  ago.  We  need  you,  old 
fellow." 

The  boys  all  joined  in  the  pleading,  and 
Phil  at  last  sat  down  with  them  and  tried  to 
eat,  but  could  not. 

"  No,  no,  don't  drink  any  coffee  yet," 
said  Will,  almost  pulling  the  cup  out  of  his 
hands.     "  It'll  kill  the  little  appetite  you've 


A   WRESTLE   WITH   THE   RIVER     207 

got.  Eat  first,  and  drink  your  coffee  after- 
ward. " 

"Wait  a  minute,"  said  Irv,  stretching 
out  his  long  legs,  and  with  a  spring  rising 
to  his  feet.  "Wait  a  minute,  and  I'll  play 
Ganymede,  the  cup-bearer." 

He  went  below,  where  he  broke  an  egg 
in  a  large  soda-water  glass  and  whipped  it 
up  with  an  egg-beater.  Then  he  filled  the 
glass  with  milk,  of  which  they  still  had  a 
gallon  or  so  left,  and  again  using  the  egg- 
beater,  whipped  the  whole  into  a  lively 
froth,  adding  a  little  salt  to  give  it  flavor 
and  make  it  more  digestible. 

"  Here,  Phil,"  he  said,  as  he  reappeared 
on  deck,  "  drink  this.  You'll  find  it  good, 
and  it  is  food  of  the  very  best  sort,  as  well 
as  drink." 

Phil  took  the  glass,  tasted  its  contents, 
and  then  drained  it  at  a  draught. 

"  Make  me  another,  won't  you,  Irv  ? " 
said  Phil  about  five  minutes  later ;  "  some- 
how that  one  has  got  lonely  and  wants  a 
companion." 

Irv  was  glad  enough  to  do  so,  and  by  the 
time  Phil  had  slowly  swallowed  his  second 
glass,  he  not  only  felt  himself  fed,  but  he 
was    so.       His    nerves    grew    steady    again, 


208    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

there  was  no  further  irritation  in  his  voice, 
and  by  the  time  that  the  next  meal  was 
ready   the  boy  had  regained   his  appetite. 

The  boat  came  to  anchor  for  the  night  a 
little  after  supper,  and  as  the  anchorage  was 
particularly  well  protected  behind  a  heavily 
timbered  point  of  submerged  land,  Phil 
consented  to  take  a  longer  sleep  than  he 
had  done  for  several  days  past. 

Irv  and  Constant  remained  on  duty  for 
several  hours,  after  which  Ed  and  Will  took 
their  places.  Only  twice  during  the  night 
did  Phil  awake.  Each  time  he  arose,  went 
all  around  the  deck,  inspecting  the  situation, 
and  then  lay  down  again  upon  the  boards. 

By  morning  he  was  quite  himself  again. 


CHAPTER   XXII 


IN    THE    FOG 


The  boat  was  now  in  a  part  of  the  river 
where  the  land  on  both  sides  lies  very  low, 
behind  very  high  levees.  These  are  the 
richest  cotton  lands  in  the  world,  and  their 
owners  have  tried  to  reclaim  all  of  them  from 
the  river  floods  instead  of  taking  only  part 
of  them  for  cultivation.  Along  other  parts 
of  the  stream  there  are  levees  only  here  and 
there,  leaving  the  river  a  chance  to  spread 
out  over  great  areas  of  unreclaimed  land, 
thus  relieving  the  levees  of  much  of  the 
pressure  upon  them.  Here,  however,  the 
line  of  embankment  is  continuous  on  both 
sides  of  the  stream.  For  long  distances  the 
river  is  held  between  the  two  lines  of  artifi- 
cially made  banks. 

The  water  was  now  within  a  few  inches  of 
the  top  of  the  levees,  and  twenty  or  thirty 
feet  above  the  level  of  the  lands  in  the  rear. 
The  strain  upon  the  embankments  was  al- 
most inconceivably  great,  while  the  destruc- 
p  209 


210    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

tion  which  any  break  in  that  long  line  of 
earthworks  would  involve  was  appalling  even 
to  think  of. 

The  boys  could  see  gangs  of  men  at  work 
wherever  any  weakness  showed  itself  in  the 
embankments,  while  sentinels,  armed  with 
shotguns,  were  everywhere  on  guard  to  pre- 
vent mischief-makers  from  cutting  the  levees. 
For,  incredible  as  it  may  seem,  men  have 
sometimes  been  base  enough  to  do  this  in 
order  to  let  the  river  out  of  its  banks,  and 
thus  reduce  the  danger  of  a  break  farther  up 
stream  where  their  own  interests  lay.  For, 
of  course,  when  a  crevasse  occurs  at  any 
point  it  lets  so  much  water  run  suddenly  out 
of  the  banks  that  the  river  falls  several  inches 
for  many  miles  above,  and  the  strain  on  the 
levees  is  greatly  reduced. 

As  the  boys  were  floating  down  the  middle 
of  the  flood,  watching  the  work  on  the  levees 
with  keen  interest,  the  air  began  to  grow 
thick.  A  few  minutes  later  a  great  bank  of 
dense  fog  settled  down  upon  them,  covering 
all  things  as  with  a  blanket.  The  shores 
and  the  great  trees  that  grew  upon  them 
were  blotted  out.  Then  as  the  fog  grew 
thicker  and  thicker,  even  the  river  disap- 
peared, except  a  little  patch  of  it  immediately 


IN   THE   FOG  211 

around  the  boat.  On  every  side  was  an 
impenetrable  wall  of  mist,  and  ragged  frag- 
ments of  it  floated  across  the  deck  so  that 
when  they  stood  half  the  boat's  length  apart 
the  boys  looked  like  spectres  to  each  other. 

"  I  say,  Phil,  hadn't  we  better  go  ashore  or 
anchor  ?  "  said  Constant. 

"  Where  is  the  shore  ? "  asked  Phil, 
quietly. 

"Why,  there's  a  shore  on  each  side  of 
us." 

"  Certainly.  But  in  what  direction?  Which 
way  is  across  the  river,  which  way  up  the 
river,  which  way  down  the  river  ?  " 

"Why,  the  current  will  tell  that,"  said 
Constant. 

"How  are  we. going  to  find  out  which 
way  the  current  runs  ? "  asked  Phil,  with  a 
quizzical  smile. 

"Easy  enough;  by  looking  at  the  drift- 
wood floating  by,"  said  the  boy,  going  to  the 
side  of  the  boat  to  peer  at  the  surface  of  the 
river  through  the  fog.  Presently  he  called 
out  in  amazement :  — 

"Why,  the  whole  thing  has  stopped  — 
the  drift,  the  river,  and  the  flatboat !  We're 
lying  here  just  as  still  as  if  we  were  on  solid 
ground." 


212    THE   LAST   OF   THE    FLATBOATS 

"  On  the  contrary,"  said  Phil,  "  we're 
floating  down  stream  at  the  rate  of  several 
miles  an  hour." 

«But_» 

"  Think  a  minute,  Constant,"  said  Phil. 
"  We  are  floating  just  as  fast  as  the  river 
runs.  The  drift-wood  is  doing  the  same 
thing.  The  water,  the  drift,  and  the  flat- 
boat  are  all  moving  in  the  same  direction  at 
precisely  the  same  speed." 

"  Oh,  I  see,"  said  Constant,  with  an  as- 
tonished look  in  his  eyes.  "  We've  nothing 
to  measure  by.  We  can't  tell  which  way 
we're  going,  or  how  fast,  or  anything  about 
it." 

"  Why  not  come  to  anchor,  then  ?  "  asked 
Irv.  "  If  we  keep  on  floating,  nobody  knows 
where  we  may  go  to.  If  there  should  be 
any  gap  in  the  line  of  levees  anywhere,  we 
might  float  into  it.  It  would  just  tickle  this 
flatboat  to  slip  off  on  an  expedition  of  that 
sort.     Why  not  anchor  till  the  fog  lifts  ?  " 

"  First,  because  we  can't,"  said  Phil. 
"  The  water  is  much  too  deep.  But  even  if 
we  could,  it  would  be  the  very  worst  thing 
we  could  do.  It  would  bring  us  to  a  stand- 
still, while  everything  else  afloat  would  keep 
on  swirling  past  us,  some  of  it  running  into 


IN   THE   FOG  213 

us.  If  we  should  anchor  here  in  the  strong 
current,  The  Last  of  the  Flatboats  would  soon 
have  as  many  holes  in  her  as  a  colander." 

"Then  what  do  you  intend  to  do,  Phil?" 
asked  Ed. 

"  Precisely  nothing  whatever,"  answered 
the  young  captain.  "  Anything  we  might  do 
would  probably  make  matters  worse.  You 
see  we  were  almost  exactly  in  the  middle  of 
the  river  when  the  fog  came  down  on  us. 
Now,  if  we  do  nothing,  the  chances  are  that 
the  current  will  carry  us  along  somewhere 
near  the  middle,  or  at  least  well  away  from 
the  shores.  If  it  don't,  we  can't  help  it. 
The  only  thing  we  can  do  is  to  keep  as  close 
a  watch  as  we  can  all  around  the  boat,  for 
we  don't  know  which  end  or  which  side  of  her 
is  in  front  now.  I  want  one  fellow  to  go  to 
the  bow,  one  to  the  stern,  and  one  to  each 
side,  and  watch.  If  we  are  about  to  run  into 
a  bank  or  anything  else,  call  out,  and  we  may 
save  ourselves  at  the  last  minute.  That's  all 
we  can  do  for  the  present.     So  go  now  !  " 

The  wisdom  of  Phil's  decision  to  do 
nothing  except  watch  alertly  was  clear  to 
all  his  comrades,  so  they  took  the  places  he 
had  assigned  them,  while  he  busied  himself 
first  at  one  point  and  then  at  another,  think- 


2i4    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

ing  all  the  while  whether  there  might  not 
be  something  else  that  he  could  do  —  some 
precaution  not  yet  thought  of  that  he  could 
take.  He  went  to  the  pump  now  and  then 
and  worked  it  till  no  more  water  came  up. 
He  went  below  two  or  three  times  to  see 
that  nothing  was  wrong  with  the  cargo. 
The  boys,  meanwhile,  were  walking  back 
and  forth  on  their  beats,  each  carrying  a 
boat-hook  with  which  to  "fend  off"  the 
larger  bits  of  drift  which  the  eddies,  cross 
currents,  and  those  strange  disturbances  in 
the  stream  called  "  boils,"  sometimes  drove 
against  the  gunwales. 

The  "  boils "  referred  to  are  peculiar  to 
the  Mississippi,  I  believe.  They  are  whirl- 
pools, caused  by  the  conflict  of  cross  cur- 
rents, and,  as  Will  Moreraud  said  during 
this  day  of  close  watching,  they  are  "  some- 
times right  side  up  and  sometimes  upside 
down."  That  is  to  say,  sometimes  a  cur- 
rent from  beneath  comes  to  the  surface  like 
water  in  a  boiling  kettle  and  seems  to  pile 
itself  up  in  a  sort  of  mound  for  a  half  minute 
or  so,  while  sometimes  there  is  a  genuine 
whirlpool  strong  enough  even  to  suck  a 
skiff  down,  as  old-time  flatboatmen  used  to 
testify. 


IN   THE   FOG  215 

These  were  anxious  hours  for  the  young 
captain  and  his  crew,  but  worse  was  to  come. 
For  night  fell  at  last  with  the  fog  still  on, 
and  between  the  fog  and  the  darkness  it 
was  no  longer  possible  to  see  even  the 
water  at  the  sides  of  the  boat  from  the 
deck. 

The  crew  had  eaten  no  dinner  that  day. 
They  had  forgotten  all  about  their  meals  in 
the  eagerness  of  their  watching.  Now  that 
watching  was  no  longer  possible  they  re- 
membered their  appetites,  and  had  an  even- 
ing dinner  instead  of  supper. 

They  set  their  lights  of  course,  though  it 
was  of  little  use  from  any  point  of  view. 
They  could  not  be  seen  at  a  distance  of 
twenty  yards,  and  moreover  there  was  no- 
body to  see  them. 

"  There's  not  much  danger  of  any  steam- 
boat running  into  us  now,"  said  Phil,  who 
had  carefully  thought  the  matter  out." 

"  Why  not  ?  "  asked  Ed. 

"  Because  this  fog  has  lasted  for  nearly 
twelve  hours  now,  and  by  this  time  every 
steamboat  is  tied  up  to  some  bank  or  tree. 
For  no  pilot  would  think  of  running  in  such 
a  cloud  after  finding  any  shore  to  which  he 
could  make  his  boat  fast," 


216    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

"  But  how  can  a  steamboat  find  the  shore 
when  we  can't  ?  "  asked  Will. 

"  Because  she  can  keep  running  till  she 
finds  it;  and  if  she  runs  slowly  she  can 
back  when  she  finds  it  till  she  makes  an 
easy  landing.  She  has  power,  and  power 
gives  her  control  of  herself.  We  have  none, 
except  what  the  sweeps  give  us.  In  fogs 
like  this  steamboats  always  hunt  for  the 
shores  and  tie  up  till  the  fog  lifts.  So  after 
ten  or  twelve  hours  of  it,  there  are  no  steam- 
boats prowling  around  to  run  into  us." 

"  Another  advantage  the  steamboats  have 
in  hunting  for  the  shore,"  said  Will,  "is 
that  they  can  blow  their  whistles  and  listen 
for  echoes.  They  can  tell  in  that  way  not 
only  in  which  direction  the  shore  is,  but 
about  how  far  away  it  is." 

"  How  do  steamships  manage  in  fogs  out 
at  sea  ?  "  asked  Constant. 

"Theoretically,"  replied  Ed,  "they  slow 
down  and  blow  their  whistles  or  their  c  sirens/ 
as  they  call  the  big  steam  fog-horns  that  can 
be  heard  for  many  miles.  But  in  fact  the 
big  ocean  steamships  drive  ahead  at  full 
speed  —  twenty  miles  an  hour  or  more  — 
blowing  their  sirens  —  till  they  hear  some 
other  ship's  siren.     Then  they  act  according 


IN   THE   FOG  217 

to  fixed  rules,  each  ship  turning  her  helm 
to  port —  that  is  to  say  to  the  left  —  so  that 
they  sail  well  away  from  each  other/' 

"  But  what  if  there  are  sailing  vessels  in 
the  way  ? " 

"  They  also  have  fog-horns,  but  they 
sometimes  get  themselves  run  down  by 
steamships,  and  once  in  a  great  while  one 
of  them  runs  into  the  side  of  a  steamship. 
The  Cunard  steamer  Oregon  was  sunk  in 
that  way  by  a  sailing  craft.  That  sort  of 
thing  would  happen  oftener  if  the  big  steam- 
ships were  to  stop  or  run  very  slowly  in  fog. 
By  running  at  full  speed  they  make  it  pretty 
sure  that  they  will  themselves  do  any  run- 
ning down  that  is  to  be  done.  With  their 
enormous  weight  and  great  speed  they  can 
cut  a  sailing  vessel  in  two  without  much 
danger  of  serious  damage  to  themselves,  and 
as  they  have  hundreds  of  people  on  board 
while  a  sailing  ship  has  a  very  few,  the 
steamship  captains  hold  that  it  is  right  to 
shift  the  danger  in  that  way." 

The  night  dragged  slowly  along.  Now 
and  then  a  little  conversation  would  spring 
up,  for  the  boys  were  sleeping  very  little, 
but  often  there  would  be  no  word  spoken 
for  an  hour  at  a  time. 


2i 8    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

The  fog  made  the  air  very  chill,  and  the 
boys,  who  remained  on  deck  all  night,  had 
to  stir  about  frequently  to  keep  reasonably 
warm. 

The  fog  began  whitening  at  last  as  the 
daylight  dawned,  and  all  the  boys  strained 
their  eyes  to  see  through  it. 

But  it  showed  no  sign  of  lifting. 


CHAPTER   XXIII 

THROUGH    THE    CREVASSE 

As  the  daylight  increased,  it  became  pos- 
sible to  see  a  little  further  into  the  fog,  and 
there  was  now  a  little  air  stirring  in  fitful 
fashion,  which  tore  holes  in  the  thick  bank  of 
mist,  but  only  for  a  moment  or  two  at  a  time. 

Through  one  of  these  brief  openings  Phil 
presently  made  a  startling  discovery.  The 
flatboat  was  running  at  an  exceedingly  rapid 
rate  along  a  nearly  overflowed  levee  on  the 
Mississippi  side  of  the  river,  and  within  fifty 
or  sixty  feet  of  it.  The  crest  of  the  embank- 
ment rose  only  a  few  inches  above  the  level 
of  the  water,  and  the  current  was  swifter 
than  any  that  Phil  had  seen  since  the  flat- 
boat  had  left  the  falls  of  the  Ohio  behind. 
What  it  all  meant  Phil  did  not  know,  nor 
could  he  imagine  how  or  why  the  boat  had 
drifted  out  of  the  main  current  to  the  shore 
in  this  way ;  but  he  felt  that  there  was  dan- 
ger there,  and  calling  his  comrades  to  the 
sweeps,  made  every  effort  to  regain  the 
219 


220    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

outer  reaches  of  the  river.  But  try  as  they 
might  at  the  oars,  the  boat  persisted  in 
hugging  the  bank,  while  her  speed  seemed 
momentarily  to  increase.  Men  on  the  levee 
were  calling  to  Phil,  but  so  excitedly  that 
he  could  not  make  out  their  meaning. 

Presently  there  was  another  little  break 
in  the  fog-bank,  and  Phil  saw  what  was  the 
matter.  Just  ahead  of  the  boat  the  levee 
had  given  way,  and  the  river  was  plunging 
like  a  Niagara  through  a  crevasse,  already 
two  or  three  hundred  feet  wide,  and  growing 
wider  with  every  second.  The  boat  had 
been  caught  in  the  current  leading  to  the 
crevasse,  and  was  now  being  drawn  into  the 
swirling  rapid. 

Phil  had  hardly  time  to  realize  the  situa- 
tion before  the  boat  began  whirling  about 
madly,  and  a  moment  later  she  plunged 
head  foremost  through  the  crevasse  and  out 
into  the  seething  waste  of  waters  that  was 
now  overspreading  fields  and  woodlands 
beyond.  As  the  land  here  lay  much  lower 
than  the  surface  of  the  river,  and  as  the 
country  had  not  yet  had  time,  since  the 
levee  broke,  to  fill  to  anything  like  the  river 
level,  passing  through  the  crevasse  was  like 
plunging  over  a   cataract,  and  after  passing 


THROUGH   THE   CREVASSE      221 

through,  the  boat  was  carried  forward  at  a 
truly  fearful  speed  across  the  fields.  Fortu- 
nately, she  encountered  no  obstacle.  Had 
she  struck  anything  in  that  mad  career,  the 
box-like  craft  would  have  been  broken 
instantly  to  bits. 

As  she  receded  from  the  river  she  left  the 
worst  of  the  fog  behind.  It  was  possible 
now  to  see  for  fifty  or  a  hundred  yards  in 
every  direction,  and  what  the  boys  saw  was 
appalling.  There  were  horses  and  cattle 
frantically  struggling  in  the  water,  only  to 
sink  beneath  it  at  last,  for  even  the  strongest 
horse  could  not  swim  far  in  a  surging  torrent 
like  that. 

There  were  cross  currents  of  great  vio- 
lence too,  and  eddies  and  whirlpools  created 
by  the  seemingly  angry  efforts  of  the  water 
to  find  the  lowest  levels  and  occupy  them. 
These  erratic  currents  took  possession  of  the 
boat,  and  whirled  her  hither  and  thither, 
until  her  crew  lost  all  sense  of  direction  and 
distance,  and  everything  else  except  the 
necessity  of  clinging  to  the  sweep  bars  to 
avoid  being  spilled  overboard  by  the  sudden 
careenings  of  the  boat  to  one  side  and  then 
the  other,  and  her  plungings  as  the  water 
swept  her  onward. 


222    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

Once  they  saw  a  human  being  struggling 
in  the  seething  water.  A  moment  later  he 
was  gone,  but  whether  drowned  or  carried 
away  to  some  point  of  rescue  there  was  no 
way  of  finding  out. 

Once  they  swept  past  a  stately  dwelling- 
house,  submerged  except  as  to  its  roof;  what 
fate  had  befallen  its  inhabitants  they  could 
never  know,  for  the  next  instant  a  strong 
current  caught  the  boat,  and  drove  it,  side 
first,  straight  toward  a  great  barn  that  had 
been  carried  off  its  foundations  and  was  now 
afloat.  For  a  moment  the  boys  expected  to 
be  driven  against  the  barn  with  appalling 
violence  —  an  event  that  would  have  meant 
immediate  destruction.  But  the  currents 
changed  in  an  instant,  so  that  the  barn  was 
carried  in  one  direction  and  the  boat  in 
another.  As  the  two  drifted  apart  there 
were  despairing  cries  from  the  floating  build- 
ing, which  had  been  badly  crushed  in  colli- 
sion with  something,  and  was  in  danger  of 
falling  to  pieces  at  any  moment.  The  boys 
looked,  and  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  number 
of  negro  children  clinging  to  the  wrecked 
structure.  An  instant  later  the  barn  dis- 
appeared in  what  was  left  of  the  fog. 

The  boys   were    sickened    by  what    they 


THROUGH    THE   CREVASSE      223 

had  seen  and  by  what  they  felt  must  be  its 
sequel.  It  is  a  fearful  thing  to  have  to 
stand  still,  doing  nothing,  when  human 
creatures  are  being  carried  to  a  cruel  death 
before  one's  eyes.  But  as  yet  the  boys 
could  do  nothing  except  cling  to  their  own 
boat.  Two  of  their  skiffs  had  been  carried 
away,  and  it  would  have  been  certain  death 
to  make  even  an  effort  to  launch  any  of  the 
others. 

They  were  swept  on  and  on  for  miles. 
They  had  passed  beyond  the  cultivated 
lands  and  out  into  a  forest.  Here  the 
danger  was  greater  than  ever,  as  a  single 
collision  with  a  tree  would  have  made  an 
end  of  everything.  But  the  turbulence  of 
the  water  was  slowly  subsiding  at  last,  and 
the  boat  floated,  still  unsteadily  indeed,  but 
with  less  violent  plungings  than  before.  It 
was  possible  now,  by  exercising  great  care, 
to  move  about  a  little,  and  Phil  quickly 
seized  the  opportunity  to  get  some  things 
done  that  he  deemed  necessary. 

"  Irv,  you  and  Constant  go  to  the  star- 
board pump,"  he  said  hurriedly ;  "  Ed 
and  Will  to  the  other ;  the  boat  must  be 
badly  wrenched,  and  she'll  fill  with  water. 
Pump  like  maniacs." 


224    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

The  boys  went  to  their  posts,  and  man- 
aged to  work  the  pumps,  though  with  dif- 
ficulty. Water  came  freely  in  answer  to 
their  efforts,  showing  that  Phil's  conjecture 
was  correct. 

Phil  himself  climbed  down  the  little  com- 
panionway,  receiving  some  bruises  and  one 
rather  ugly  cut  on  the  head  as  he  did  so, 
for  the  sudden  tossings  of  the  boat  still  con- 
tinued, though  less  violently  than  before. 
He  found  matters  below  in  rather  better 
condition  than  he  had  feared.  The  space 
under  the  flooring  —  or  the  bilge,  as  it  is 
called  —  was  full,  and  there  was  a  good  deal 
of  water  washing  about  above  the  floor. 
The  boat  was  too  unsteady  for  Phil  to 
estimate  the  depth  of  the  leakage,  or  to 
discover  the  rapidity  with  which  the  water 
was  coming  in.  But  he  hoped  that  diligent 
pumping  might  yet  save  the  craft. 

Having  hurriedly  made  his  inspection,  he 
proceeded  next  to  fill  a  basket  with  food, 
taking  first  that  which  could  be  eaten  with- 
out further  cooking,  —  canned  goods,  dried 
beef,  and  the  like,  —  and,  returning  to  the 
deck,  deposited  his  stores  in  one  of  the 
skiffs.  He  repeated  this  several  times,  till 
he  had  fully  provisioned  two  of  the  boats. 


THROUGH   THE   CREVASSE      225 

It  did  not  require  many  minutes  to  do  this, 
and  they  were  minutes  that  he  could  not 
use  to  better  advantage  in  any  other  way, 
for  there  was  still  no  possibility  of  directing 
the  flatboat's  course  by  using  the  oars,  and 
Phil  deemed  it  wise  thus  to  provision  the 
skiffs,  so  that  if  the  boat  should  sink,  he  and 
his  comrades,  or  some  of  them,  at  least, 
might  have  a  chance  of  escape  in  them  without 
starving  before  reaching  dry  land  somewhere. 

The  boat  had  passed  safely  through  the 
first  stretch  of  timber  lands,  and  was  now 
floating  over  a  broad  reach  of  open  planta- 
tion country.  But  the  fog  was  gone  now, 
and,  as  there  was  woodland  in  sight  a  few 
miles  farther  on  in  the  direction  in  which 
the  current  was  carrying  them,  Phil  and  his 
friends  felt  that  their  respite  was  likely  to  be 
a  brief  one. 

He  relieved  Ed  at  the  pump,  and  ordered 
him  to  rest.  But  the  boy  protested  that  he 
was  still  fresh,  and  would  have  worked  on 
if  Phil  had  permitted.  Even  in  this  time 
of  danger  and  hurried  effort,  Phil  could  not 
help  thinking  how  greatly  his  brother's 
health  and  strength  had  improved. 

"Ed's  getting  well,"  he  said  to  Irv,  as 
the  two  tugged  at  the  pump. 

Q 


226    THE   LAST    OF   THE    FLATBOATS 

"  Yes,"  rejoined  the  tall  fellow  ;  "  a  month 
ago  he  couldn't  have  done  such  work  as  this 
to  save  his  life." 

"And  twenty-four  hours  of  such  a  fog 
as  we've  been  through  would  have  killed 
him  to  a  certainty.  Now  he  doesn't  even 
cough." 

A  little  later,  as  the  boat  began  floating 
more  steadily,  Phil  called  out :  — 

"  Go  below,  Ed,  and  see  how  much  water 
is  in  the  hold." 

Ed's  report  convinced  the  young  captain 
that  the  leaks  were  at  least  not  gaining  upon 
the  pumps.  An  hour  later,  the  boat  having 
become  quite  steady  again,  Phil  found  that 
the  pumps  were  gaining  on  the  water,  which 
by  that  time  did  not  rise  above  the  flooring. 

The  boat  had  by  this  time  passed  again 
into  a  forest,  and,  while  the  current  was 
now  a  steady  one,  it  was  still  very  strong. 
Phil  considered  the  situation  carefully,  and 
decided  upon  his  course  of  action. 

"Take  a  line  in  a  skiff,  Will,  and  pass  it 
once  around  a  tree,  then  run  off  with  the  end 
of  it  and  hold  on,  letting  it  slip  as  slowly  as 
possible  on  the  tree  till  the  boat  comes  to  a 
halt.     Then  make  fast." 

To  the  others  he  explained  :  — 


THROUGH    THE    CREVASSE      227 

"  We  must  check  her  speed  gradually. 
In  such  a  current  as  this  to  stop  her  sud- 
denly would  sling  her  against  some  tree  like 
a  whip  cracker." 

Then  he  turned  to  Irv,  and  said,  "  Take 
another  line,  and  do  the  same  thing  on 
another  tree." 

By  the  time  that  Irv  pushed  off  in  his 
skiff  Will  had  got  his  line  in  place  around 
a  tree,  and  had  rowed  away  fifty  yards  with 
the  end  of  it.  As  it  tightened,  the  rope 
began  slipping  on  the  tree,  dragging  the 
skiff  toward  it.     Phil  called  to  Will :  — 

"  Don't  get  hurt,  Will  !  Let  go  your 
rope  when  you  are  dragged  nearly  to  the 
tree." 

Will  did  so  just  in  time  to  save  himself 
from  an  ugly  collision,  but  his  efforts  had 
considerably  checked  the  flatboat's  speed, 
and  by  the  time  he  let  go  the  line  Irv  had 
the  other  rope  around  a  tree  and  was  repeat- 
ing the  operation.  This  second  line  brought 
the  boat  to  a  standstill,  and  under  Phil's 
direction  she  was  securely  made  fast  both 
bow  and  stern,  so  that  she  could  not  swing 
about  in  any  direction. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

A    LITTLE    AMATEUR    SURGERY 

"The  first  thing  to  be  done  now/'  said 
Phil,  "  is  to  find  out  what  damage  we  have 
suffered,  and  repair  as  much  of  it  as  we  can." 

"  Better  begin  with  your  head  then,"  said 
Will.  "  It  seems  to  have  sustained  more 
damage  than  anything  else  in  sight." 

The  cut  Phil  had  received  had  covered  his 
face  and  shoulders  with  blood,  and  his  head 
was  aching  severely.  But  he  was  not  ready 
to  think  of  himself  yet.  He  must  first  do 
everything  that  could  be  done  for  the  safety 
of  the  boat  and  crew  and  cargo.  So  he  dis- 
missed Will's  suggestion,  saying  :  — 

"  Never  mind  about  my  head.  I'll  wash 
the  blood  off  when  other  things  are  done. 
There's  plenty  of  water,  anyhow." 

With  that  he  went  below  again  to  inspect. 

He  found  that  the  water  there  had  risen  since 

the  pumps  were  stopped  until  now  it  stood 

about  two  inches  above  the  false  bottom  or 

228 


A   LITTLE   AMATEUR   SURGERY     229 

floor  on  which  the  cargo  rested.  Putting  his 
head  out  through  the  scuttle,  he  called :  — 

"  Two  of  you  go  to  the  pumps  —  one  to 
each  pump.  Don't  work  too  hard,  but  keep 
up  a  steady  pumping.  As  soon  as  the.  two 
get  tired,  let  the  other  two  take  their  places." 

He  withdrew  his  head,  but  in  a  few 
moments  after  the  pumps  were  started  he 
thrust  it  out  again  to  say :  — 

"  Don't  pump  so  hard  !  You'll  break  your- 
selves down,  and  we  can't  afford  that  now." 

He  went  below  again,  lighted  a  lantern  and 
made  as  thorough  an  examination  of  the  boat 
as  possible,  even  moving  a  good  deal  of  the 
freight  about  in  order  to  get  at  points  where 
he  suspected  the  principal  leaks  to  be.  Two 
of  these  he  closed  by  nailing  blocks  of  inch 
board  over  them. 

Meantime  he  made  frequent  observations 
of  the  water  mark  he  had  set,  and  was  re- 
joiced to  find  that  the  pumps  were  taking 
water  out  more  rapidly  than  it  was  leak- 
ing in. 

He  went  on  deck  and  announced  the 
results  of  his  inspection. 

"  The  boat  is  leaking,  of  course,  but  not 
one-half  so  badly  as  there  was  reason  to  fear. 
The  bilge  is  full,  and  the  water  stands  about 


230    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

an  inch  deep  or  a  little  less  on  the  false 
bottom.  But  it  stood  two  inches  deep  there 
an  hour  ago,  so  I  expect  that  in  another  hour 
or  so  we  shall  get  it  down  to  the  bilge,  leav- 
ing the  floor  clear.  It  is  important  to  do 
that  quickly  so  that  the  wet  part  of  our 
cargo,  particularly  the  lower  tier  of  hay  bales, 
may  have  a  chance  to  dry  out.  If  it  stays 
long  in  water,  of  course  it  will  be  badly 
damaged." 

"Well,  now,"  said  Irv,  "I'm  going  to 
take  care  of  something  else  that's  badly 
damaged.  Get  a  pair  of  scissors,  Ed,  and 
some  rags,  and  help  me  repair  Phil's  head." 

Then,  taking  Phil  by  the  arm,  he  con- 
tinued :  — 

"  Come  to  the  bow,  Phil,  where  we  can 
get  at  the  water  easily.  It  will  require  a 
young  lake  to  clean  you  up  properly.  Off 
with  your  shirt,  young  man  ! " 

Irv  treated  the  matter  lightly,  but  he  did 
not  think  of  it  in  that  way  by  any  means. 
In  common  with  the  other  boys,  he  was 
deeply  concerned  over  the  young  captain's 
wound.  The  bleeding  had  long  since  ceased, 
but  the  boy's  hair  was  matted,  his  face  cov- 
ered, and  the  upper  part  of  his  clothing 
saturated  with  blood. 


A   LITTLE   AMATEUR   SURGERY     231 

The  clothing  was  first  removed.  Then 
with  wet  cloths  the  face  and  shoulders  were 
hastily  sponged  off. 

"  Now,  Ed,"  said  Irv,  who  lived,  when  at 
home,  in  the  house  with  his  uncle,  a  phy- 
sician, and  therefore  knew  better  than  any 
one  else  on  the  boat  what  to  do  for  a  wound, 
"  you  take  the  scissors  and  shear  off  Phil's 
hair  just  as  close  to  the  scalp  as  you  can, 
particularly  around  the  wound.  Hair  is 
always  full  of  microbes,  you  know." 

With  that  Irv  passed  through  the  hold 
and  was  absent  for  some  little  time.  When 
he  returned,  he  brought  with  him  a  tea- 
kettle of  hot  water  which  he  had  waited  to 
boil,  a  basin,  and  a  little  box  of  salt. 

"  What  are  those  for  ? "  asked  Ed,  who 
had  by  this  time  reduced  Phil  to  a  condi- 
tion of  baldness. 

"  How  much  water  is  there  above  the 
false  bottom  now  ? "  queried  Phil,  whose 
mind  refused  to  be  diverted  from  his  duty 
as  captain. 

"  The  water  to  cleanse  the  wound,  the 
salt  to  disinfect  it,  and  I  didn't  notice  any 
water  above  the  floor,"  said  Irv,  replying  to 
both  questions  in  a  single  breath. 

Ed    laughed,    but    Phil    eagerly    asked, 


232    THE    LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

"You  mean  that  the  water  doesn't  come 
over  the  flooring  at  all,  —  that  there's  no 
water  above  the  bilge  ?  " 

"  I  didn't  observe  any,"  said  Irv,  "  but  I 
wasn't  thinking  particularly  about  it.  I'll 
go  and  look  again." 

"  No,"  said  Phil ;  "  I'll  go  myself  if  you'll 
get  me  a  lantern,  for  it's  so  nearly  dark  now 
that  it  must  be  quite  dark  inside." 

When  the  lantern  came,  Phil  made  a 
hurried  inspection  with  a  blanket  thrown 
over  his  otherwise  bare  shoulders.  Then 
he  thrust  his  shaven  head  above  the  deck 
and  called  to  the  two  boys  at  the  pumps  :  — 

"  I  say,  fellows,  you  can  stop  one  of  the 
pumps  now,  and  keep  only  one  going. 
One  of  you  go  below  and  get  supper. 
Make  it  a  hearty  one,  for  we  haven't  eaten 
a  mouthful  in  twenty-four  hours." 

In  the  day's  excitements  not  one  of  them 
had  thought  about  food,  but  now  that  sup- 
per was  mentioned  they  all  realized  that 
their  appetites  were  voracious. 

Having  given  his  orders,  Phil  submitted 
himself  again  to  the  hands  of  his  surgeons. 
Irv  poured  some  of  the  hot  water  into  a 
basin  and  added  a  tablespoonful  or  so  of  salt. 

"  You    see,"  he   explained,    "  the  trouble 


A   LITTLE   AMATEUR   SURGERY     233 

with  wounds  is  that  germs  get  into  them,  so 
the  most  important  thing  of  all  is  to  cleanse 
them  thoroughly,  and  after  that  to  keep 
them  clean.  I'm  using  boiled  water  " — he 
was  sponging  the  wound  as  he  talked,  — 
"  because  boiling  kills  all  the  microbes  there 
may  be  in  water." 

"  But  what  is  the  salt  for  ?  "  asked  Ed. 

"  To  disinfect  the  wound.  You  see  there 
must  be  lots  of  microbes  in  it  already,  and 
salt  kills  them.  That's  what  we  salt  meat 
for  when  we  wish  to  preserve  it.  The  salt 
kills  microbes,  and  so  the  meat  keeps  sound. " 

"  Then  it  is  the  presence  of  microbes  that 
causes  decay  in  meat  ?  " 

"  Yes,  or  decay  in  anything  else.  If  we 
hadn't  thrown  Jim  Hughes's  whiskey  over- 
board, I'd  wash  this  Avound  with  that.  It 
would  make  Phil  jump,  but  it  would  do  the 
work.  You  know  nothing*  decays  in  alco- 
hol.    However,  the  salt  will  do,  I  think." 

When  Irv  had  satisfied  himself  that  the 
wound  was  sufficiently  cleansed,  he  drew  the 
edges  of  the  cut  together  and  held  them 
there  with  sticking  plaster. 

"  Now,  Ed,"  he  said,  "  won't  you  please 
bring  me  some  cloths  that  you'll  find  in  the 
oven  of  the  stove  ?  " 


234    THE   LAST   OF   THE    FLATBOATS 

Ed  went  at  once,  but  wondering.  When 
he  returned,  Irv  finished  dressing  the  wound, 
and  all  went  to  supper. 

"Why  did  you  put  the  rags  in  the  oven, 
Irv  ? "  asked  Ed.  "  I  noticed  you  didn't 
even  try  to  keep  them  warm  after  I  brought 
them  to  you." 

"  Oh,  no.  I  roasted  them  for  the  same 
reason  that  I  boiled  the  water  —  to  sterilize 
them." 

"  You  mean  to  kill  the  microbes  ?  " 

"  Yes.  You  see  everything  is  likely  to 
be  infested  with  disease  germs,  so  you  must 
never  use  anything  about  a  wound  without 
first  sterilizing  it  with  heat  or  some  chemi- 
cal. You  can  use  unboiled  water,  of  course, 
because  water  cleanses  things  anyhow,  but  it 
is  better  to  use  boiled  water  if  you  can  get 
it,  and  every  bandage  should  be  carefully 
sterilized.  That's  why  I  started  the  fire, 
boiled  the  water,  and  put  the  rags  in  the 
oven  to  roast." 

At  supper  Ed  ate  as  voraciously  as  the 
rest,  and  the  boys  observed  with  satisfaction 
that  the  long  fast,  the  very  hard  work,  the 
severe  strain  of  anxiety,  and  the  prolonged 
exposure  to  the  fog  had  in  no  way  hurt  him. 
Ed   declared,  indeed,  that   he   was   growing 


A   LITTLE   AMATEUR   SURGERY     235 

positively  robust,  and  his  comrades  agreed 
with  him. 

"What's  the  programme  now,  Phil?" 
asked  one  of  the  party  when  supper  was 
done. 

"A  good  night's  sleep,"  answered  the 
young  captain.  "  In  the  morning  we'll 
consider  further  proceedings  with  clear 
heads.  One  pump  is  sufficient  to  keep 
ahead  of  the  leaks  now,  and  we  shall  have  to 
keep  that  going  night  and  day  as  long  as  we 
remain  afloat.  So  usually  we'll  keep  two 
men  awake  to  alternate  at  the  pump,  but  for 
to-night  we'll  stand  short  watches,  keeping 
only  one  man  awake  at  a  time.  Two 
watches  of  an  hour  each  for  each  of  us  will 
take  us  through  the  night.  I'll  take  the 
first  watch,  as  my  head  is  aching  too  badly 
to  sleep  yet.  So  get  to  sleep,  all  of  you. 
I'll  wake  one  of  you  in  an  hour  or  so." 

The  boys  objected.  They  wanted  Phil 
to  treat  himself  as  an  invalid,  and  let  them 
do  the  watching  and  pumping,  but  he  was 
obstinate  in  his  determination  to  do  his  full 
share.  So  they  stretched  themselves  in 
their  bunks  and  were  soon  sleeping  the 
sleep  of  very  tired  but  very  healthy  young 
human  animals. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

A    VOYAGE    IN    THE    WOODS 

It  was  long  past  midnight  when  Phil 
aroused  one  of  his  comrades  to  take  his 
place  on  watch  and  at  the  pump.  For  the 
young  captain  had  a  good  deal  of  careful 
thinking  to  do,  and  he  could  do  it  better 
alone  in  the  dark  than  when  surrounded  by 
his  crew.  Moreover,  he  knew  that  until  his 
thinking  should  be  done  he  could  not  sleep 
even  if  he  should  try. 

"  I  might  as  well  stay  on  deck  and  let  the 
other  fellows  sleep/'  he  said  to  himself,  "  as 
to  lie  awake  for  hours  in  my  bunk." 

In  the  morning  Phil  called  a  "  council  of 
war." 

"Now  listen  to  me  first,  without  interrupt- 
ing," he  said.  "  I've  thought  out  the  situa- 
tion as  well  as  I  can,  and  have  made  up  my 
mind  what  we  ought  to  do.  After  IVe  told 
you  my  plan  and  the  reasons  for  it,  you  can 
make  any  suggestions  you  like,  and  I'll 
adopt  any  of  them  that  seem  good  to  me." 
236 


A   VOYAGE    IN   THE   WOODS    237 

"  That's  right/'  said  Irv.  "  Let's  hear 
what  you've  thought  and  what  your  plan  is. 
Then  we'll  carry  it  out." 

"  No,"  said  Phil.  "  I  want  you  to  criti- 
cise it  first,  so  that  if  it's  wrong  I  can  change 
it." 

"All  right.     Go  ahead." 

"  First  of  all,  then,  we're  out  here  in  the 
woods.  It  isn't  a  comfortable  or  a  proper 
place  for  a  flatboat  to  be  in,  and  we  must 
get  out  of  it  as  quickly  as  we  can." 

"  But  how  ?  "  broke  in  Will.  "We're  ten 
or  twenty  or  maybe  thirty  or  forty  miles 
from  the  river,  and  we  can't  possibly  get 
back  again." 

"  I  don't  know  so  well  about  that,"  said 
Phil.  "  Of  course  we  can't  get  back  to  the 
river  at  the  point  where  we  left  it.  But  I'm 
not  so  sure  that  we  can't  get  back  to  it 
somewhere  else,  and  at  any  rate,  I'm  going 
to  try.  Listen,  now !  The  water  we're  in 
is  thirty-five  feet  deep." 

"  How  do  you  know  ?  "  asked  Constant. 

"  I've  sounded  it.  So  we've  plenty  of 
water,  and  there  is  no  danger  of  our  going 
aground.  But  we're  not  in  any  river,  for 
we're  in  the  midst  of  the  woods,  and  woods 
don't  grow  in  rivers.     But  this  water  that 


238    THE    LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

we're  in  is  running  toward  somewhere  at 
the  rate  of  six  or  eight  miles  a  hour,  and  we 
must  go  with  it.  Somehow  or  somewhere 
it  must  run  into  some  river,  and  that  river 
must  somewhere  and  somehow  empty  itself 
into  the  Mississippi/' 

"  Why  ?  "  asked  Constant. 

"  Because  there  isn't  anything  else  for  it 
to  run  into,  and  of  course  it  can't  stop  run- 
ning. Now  my  idea  is  this.  We  must  cast 
the  boat  loose  and  let  her  float  with  the 
current.  It  will  be  very  hard  work  to  keep 
her  from  smashing  into  these  big  trees,  but 
we  must  do  all  the  hard  work  necessary. 
We'll  tie  up  every  night  so  long  as  we're  in 
the  woods,  and  we'll  float  all  day.  Sooner 
or  later  we'll  run  out  of  the  woods  and  into 
a  river,  and  when  we  do  that  we'll  follow  the 
river  to  its  end,  wherever  it  may  happen  to 
be." 

"  But  have  you  any  idea  where  we  are  ?  " 
asked  Will. 

"  No,"  said  Phil,  "  except  that  we  are 
somewhere  in  the  northern  part  of  the  state 
of  Mississippi." 

"  I  know  where  we  are,"  drawled  Irv 
Strong. 

"  Where  ?" 


A   VOYAGE    IN   THE   WOODS    239 

"  We're  in  the  woods." 

"  I'm  pleased  to  observe  that  you  still 
have  '  lucid  intervals/  Irv,"  said  Ed  Lowry. 
"  But  I  have  a  rather  more  definite  idea  than 
that  of  our  whereabouts.  I  studied  it  out 
on  the  map  early  this  morning." 

"  Good,  good  !  Where  are  we  ?  "  cried 
out  all  the  boys  in  a  breath,  and  with  great 
eagerness. 

"  Come  here  and  see/'  said  Ed,  unrolling 
his  great  river  map.  "You  observe  that 
a  number  of  rivers  originate  in  northern 
Mississippi  and  western  Tennessee,  almost 
under  the  levees  of  the  Mississippi.  There 
are  the  Big  Sunflower,  the  Coldwater,  and 
the  Tallahatchie,  with  the  Yalobusha  only 
a  little  way  off.  All  of  them  run  into  the 
Yazoo,  which  in  its  turn  runs  into  the  Mis- 
sissippi near  Vicksburg.  All  of  them  are 
marked  on  my  map  as  navigable  for  a  part 
of  their  course.  All  of  them  lie  in  a  great 
flat  basin  or  lowland  swamp.  But  for  the 
levees  the  Mississippi  would  flow  into  them 
whenever  it  rises  to  any  considerable  extent. 
In  fact,  they  must  originally  have  been  mere 
bayous  of  the  great  river,  running  out  of  it 
and  back  into  it  again.  The  Mississippi 
levees  have  stopped  all  that  ordinarily,  but 


240    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

the  levees  have  given  way  this  time,  and  so 
the  Mississippi  is  now  pouring  its  water 
into  these  rivers,  and  as  there  is  too  much 
of  it  for  them  to  hold,  it  has  filled  the  entire 
swamp  country  between  them,  making  one 
vast  stream  of  them  all  in  effect.  We  are 
somewhere  in  between  those  rivers,  and  if 
we  can  keep  our  flatboat  afloat  and  not 
wreck  her  among  these  trees,  the  current 
will  sooner  or  later  carry  us  into  the  natural 
channel  of  one  or  the  other  of  them.  That 
I  understand  to  be  Phil's  idea,  and  he  is 
right." 

"That's  all  right/'  said  Phil,  who  was 
restlessly  pacing  up  and  down  the  deck. 
"  But  has  anybody  any  suggestion  to 
make  ? " 

Nobody  had  anything  to  offer. 

"  Very  well,  then,"  said  the  young  captain, 
"let's  get  to  work.  We've  talked  enough. 
We  must  keep  one  fellow  at  a  pump  all 
the  time.  We  can't  do  much  with  the 
sweeps  while  we're  in  the  woods,  and  our 
greatest  danger  is  that  of  running  the 
boat  into  one  of  these  big  trees  and  wreck- 
ing her.  To  prevent  that  I  want  you,  Irv, 
-and  you,  Constant,  —  for  you  are  the  stout- 
est oarsmen,  —  to  get  into  a  skiff  and  carry 


A   VOYAGE   IN   THE   WOODS    241 

a  line  about  a  hundred  feet  in  advance  of 
the  boat.  She  slews  around  pretty  easily 
under  a  pull,  and  I  want  you  two  to  guide 
her  with  a  line.  I'll  tell  you  when  you  are 
to  row  to  right  or  left  to  avoid  trees,  and 
the  rest  of  the  time  you've  only  to  keep  the 
line  taut  so  as  to  be  ready  for  emergencies. 
Get  into  the  skiff  at  once,  and  take  a  light 
line  with  you." 

As  soon  as  the  skiff  was  in  position  and 
the  guiding  line  stretched,  Phil  directed 
Will  Moreraud  to  jump  into  another  skiff 
and  release  the  flatboat  from  her  moorings. 

It  was  perilous  business  navigating  thus 
through  a  dense  subtropical  forest.  Phil 
stood  at  the  bow,  intently  watching  and 
giving  his  commands  in  a  restrained  voice 
and  with  an  apparent  calm  that  sadly  belied 
his  actual  condition  of  mind.  Will  and  Ed 
"  stood  by  M  the  sweeps,  working  the  pumps, 
but  holding  themselves  ready  to  pull  on  the 
great  oars  whenever  Phil  should  find  that 
mode  of  guiding  the  boat  practicable. 

Ever^y  now  and  then   Phil  would  call  to 
Irv  and  Constant  in  the  skiff  ahead,  to  pull      S 
with  all  their  might  to  the  right  or  left,  and  '" 
many  times  the  flatboat,  in  spite  of  this  dili- 
gence, had  narrow  escapes  from  disaster. 


242    THE   LAST   OF  THE   FLATBOATS 

It  was  terribly  hard  work,  and  the  mental 
strain  of  it  which  fell  upon  Phil  was  worse 
even  than  the  tremendous  physical  exertion 
put  forth  by  the  other  boys.  There  was  no 
midday  meal  served  that  day,  for  it  would 
have  meant  destruction  for  any  one  of  the 
boys  to  leave  his  post  of  duty  long  enough 
even  to  prepare  the  simplest  food. 

About  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  Phil 
suddenly  called  to  Irv  :  — 

"  Carry  your  line  around  a  tree  and  check 
speed  all  you  can ! "  Then  turning  to 
Will:  — 

"Jump  into  a  skiff,  Will,  and  take  out 
another  line,  just  as  you  did  yesterday. 
When  the  boat  stops,  make  fast !  " 

The  boys  obeyed  promptly,  and  a  few 
minutes  later  The  Last  of  the  Flat  boats  was 
securely  tied  to  two  great  trees  —  one  in 
front  and  one  astern. 

Then  Phil  threw  himself  down  on  the 
deck  and  closed  his  eyes  as  if  in  sleep,  and 
the  boys  in  the  skiffs  came  back  on  board. 

The  captain  was  manifestly  exhausted. 
The  strain  of  watching  and  directing  the 
course  of  the  boat  through  so  many  hours 
and  under  circumstances  so  difficult,  the  still 
greater  strain  put  upon  his  mind  by  his  con- 


A   VOYAGE   IN   THE    WOODS    243 

sciousness  that  he  alone  was  responsible  for 
the  safety  of  boat  and  crew  and  cargo,  and 
finally  the  sudden  relief  caused  by  a  glimpse 
ahead  which  his  comrades  had  been  too  busy 
to  share,  had  brought  on  something  very 
like  collapse. 

The  boys  said  nothing,  lest  they  disturb 
him.  He  lay  still  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour 
perhapSo  Then  he  got  up,  stripped  off  his 
clothing,  and  leaped  overboard. 

Five  minutes  later  he  returned  to  the 
deck  refreshed  by  his  bath,  and  almost  him- 
self again. 

As  he  dried  himself  with  a  towel,  he 
said :  — 

"  Two  of  you  go  below  and  get  supper. 
Make  it  a  big  one,  for  we  are  all  starving. 
And  get  it  as  quickly  as  you  can."  Then, 
after  a  brief  pause,  he  added :  — 

"You  didn't  notice  it,  I  suppose,  but 
we're  out  of  the  woods  !  " 

"  How  so? "  asked  Ed  and  Irv  in  unison. 

"There's  an  open  river  just  ahead,"  re- 
plied Phil.  "  Go  forward  and  look.  I'm 
going  to  sleep  now.  Wake  me  up  when 
supper  is  ready." 

And  in  a  moment  the  exhausted  boy  was 
sound    asleep,   stretched    out    upon    a   hard 


244    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

plank,  without  pillow  or  other  comfort  of 
any  kind. 

"  Poor  fellow !  "  said  Irv.  "  He's  got  the 
big  end  of  this  job  all  the  time." 

With  that  he  dived  below,  and  returning, 
placed  a  pillow  under  Phil's  bandaged  head, 
and  spread  a  blanket  over  him,  for  the  air 
was  chill. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

THE    CREW    AND    THEIR    CAPTAIN 

Utterly  worn  out  as  he  was,  it  was  not 
a  part  of  Phil's  purpose  —  it  was  not  in  his 
nature,  indeed  —  to  neglect  any  duty.  He 
ate  a  hearty  supper  with  the  boys,  during 
which  he  talked  very  little.  Once  he  said, 
suddenly :  — 

"  I  suspect  it's  the  Tallahatchie." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  asked  Ed. 

"  Why,  the  river  we've  reached.  It  lies 
to  the  left  of  our  course.  If  it  was  the  Sun- 
flower, it  would  lie  to  the  right.  Anyhow, 
it  runs  into  the  Yazoo,  and  that's  all  we  ask 
of  it." 

"  By  the  way,  Ed,"  said  Irv,  "  how  long 
is  the  Yazoo  ?  " 

"I  don't  know,  I'm  sure,"  said  Ed. 
"  I'll  get  the  map  after  supper,  and  look." 

"  Don't  bother,"  said  Phil.  "  The  navi- 
gable part  of  it  is  one  hundred  and  seventy- 
five  miles  long." 

245 


246    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

"  How  did  you  come  to  know  that  ? " 
asked  Will.  "  I  thought  Ed  was  the  geog- 
rapher of  this  expedition." 

"  So  he  is.  But  Fm  captain,  worse  luck 
to  it,  and  it's  my  first  business  to  know  what 
lies  ahead.  So  I  looked  this  thing  up  on 
the  map.  The  Yalobusha  and  Tallahatchie 
run  together  somewhere  near  a  village:  called 
Greenwood,  which  is  probably  a  hundred 
feet  or  so  under  water  just  now,  —  we  may 
even  float  over  the  highest  steeple  in  that 
interesting  town,  when  we  get  to  it,  —  and 
those  two  streams  form  the  Yazoo.  By  the 
way,  that  little  side  issue  of  a  river  happens 
to  be  considerably  longer,  in  its  navigable 
part,  than  one  of  the  most  celebrated  rivers 
in  the  world  —  the  Hudson." 

"  You  don't  mean  it  ?  "  exclaimed  Irv,  for 
once  surprised  out  of  his  drawl. 

"Maybe  I  don't.  But  I  think  I  do. 
Ask  Ed  to  study  it  out.  I'm  too  tired  to 
talk.  I'm  going  to  sleep  for  ten  minutes 
now.  Wake  me  up  at  the  end  of  that  time. 
Don't  fail !  " 

With  that  the  exhausted  boy  rolled  into  a 
bunk,  and  in  an  instant  was  asleep  again. 

Ed  got  out  his  maps  and  studied  them 
for  a  while. 


THE   CREW   AND    CAPTAIN      247 

"  He's  right,  boys/'  said  the  older  one, 
after  some  measurements  on  the  map. 

"  Of  course  he  is,"  said  Constant.  "  He's 
got  into  the  habit  of  being  right  since  we 
chose  him  to  be  c  It  '  for  this  trip.  But 
go  on,  Ed.     Tell  us  about  it." 

"Well,"  said  Ed,  still  scrutinizing  the 
map,  "the  navigable  part  of  the  Hudson, 
from  New  York  to  Troy,  is  about  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty-six  miles  long.  The  naviga- 
ble part  of  the  Yazoo  is,  as  Phil  said,  one 
hundred  and  seventy-five  miles  long.  Oh,  1 
by  the  way  —  " 

"  What  is  the  thought  behind  that  excla- 
mation ? "  said  Irv,  when  Ed  paused ;  for 
Irv's  spirits  were  irrepressible. 

"  It  just  occurs  to  me,"  said  Ed,  "  that 
this  wonderful  river  of  ours,  the  Mississippi 
with  its  tributaries,  is  almost  exactly  one  -. 
hundred  times  as  long  —  in  its  navigable 
parts  —  as  the  greatest  commercial  river  of 
the  East." 

"In  other  words,"  said  Irv,  "the  East 
isn't  in  it  with  us.  Its  great  Hudson  River 
would  scarcely  more  than  make  a  tail  for 
the  Mississippi  below  New  Orleans.  It  s 
would  just  about  stretch  from  Cincinnati  to 
Louisville.      It  would    cover   only    a    little 


248    THE    LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

more  than  half  the  distance  from  St.  Louis 
to  Cairo,  or  from  Cairo  to  Memphis." 

"  True  !  "  said  Ed,  "  and  pretty  much  the 
same  thing  is  true  of  every  great  river  in 
Europe.  Not  one  of  them  would  make  a 
really  important  tributary  of  our  wonderful 
river.  All  of  them  put  together  wouldn't 
compare  with  the  Ohio  and  its  affluents." 

"  Phil's  ten  minutes  are  up,"  said  Will. 
"  I  hate  to  wake  him,  but  that  was  his 
order." 

Phil  had  come,  in  this  time  of  stress,  to 
live  mainly  within  himself.  He  was  too 
much  absorbed  with  his  responsibilities  to 
be  able  to  put  them  aside,  or  even  to  treat 
them  lightly. 

"  I'm  c  It,'  and  so  I'm  responsible,"  he 
had  said  to  Ed,  "  and  I  must  think.  Some- 
times it  doesn't  pay  to  talk,  and  sometimes 
I'm  too  tired  to  talk.  I  must  just  give 
orders  without  explaining  them.  You  ex- 
plain it  all  to  the  other  fellows,  and  don't 
let  them  misunderstand.  I  don't  like  the 
job  of  commanding,  even  a  little  bit.  But 
you  fellows  set  me  at  it,  and  I  accepted  the 
responsibility.  I'll  bear  it  to  the  end, 
but  —  " 

"We    all    understand,    Phil,"    said    Irv 


THE    CREW   AND    CAPTAIN      249 

Strong,  who  had  joined  the  brothers. 
"  Your  crew  was  never  better  satisfied  with 
its  captain  than  it  is  to-day.  But  it  will  be 
still  more  loyal  to-morrow  and  next  day, 
and  every  other  day  till  the  voyage  is 
ended. "  Then  in  lighter  vein  —  for  Irv 
never  liked  to  be  serious  for  long  at  a  time  — 
he  added :  "  Why,  I  wouldn't  even  whisper 
if  you  told  me  not  to,  and  you  remember 
Mrs.  Dupont  posted  me  first,  and  you  next, 
as  irreclaimable  whisperers." 

But  to  return  to  the  night  in  question. 
When  Phil  was  waked  he  took  a  lantern  and 
made  a  minute  inspection  of  the  boat,  inside 
and  outside.  Then  he  dropped  into  a  skiff 
and  rowed  away  to  examine  the  moorings 
critically.  On  his  return  he  said  to  his  com- 
rades :  — 

"  The  boat  is  leaking  a  good  deal  more 
than  I  like.  The  strain  she  received  back 
there,  yesterday  or  the  day  before,  or  a  thou- 
sand years  ago  —  I'm  sure  I  don't  remem- 
ber when  it  was  —  is  beginning  to  tell  upon 
her.  One  pump  is  no  longer  quite  enough 
to  keep  the  water  in  the  bilge.  We  must 
keep  both  going  —  not  quite  all  the  time, 
of  course,  and  not  very  violently,  but  pretty 
steadily.     So  that's  the  order  for  to-night. 


250    THE    LAST    OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

Two  fellows  on  watch  all  the  time,  and 
both  pumps  to  be  kept  going  most  of  the 
time.  I'll  sleep  till  two  o'clock.  Then 
wake  me,  and  I'll  take  my  turn  at  a  pump." 
The  boys  would  have  liked  to  exempt 
him  from  that  duty.  But  his  tone  did  not 
invite  question  or  protest  of  any  kind.  It 
did  not  admit  even  of  argument.  It  was  a 
command  —  and  Phil  was  commander. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

A    STRUGGLE    IN    THE    DARK 

But  Phil  was  up  long  before  the  hour 
appointed.  It  was  not  yet  midnight  when 
he  got  out  of  his  bunk  to  get  a  drink  of 
water.  As  he  did  so  he  stepped  into  water 
halfway  up  to  his  knees. 

He  instantly  aroused  his  companions. 

"  The  boat  is  sinking,"  was  his  explana- 
tion.    "  Get  to  the  pumps  quick." 

Then  lighting  a  lantern  he  made  a  thor- 
ough search  of  the  hold  in  the  hope  of 
finding  and  stopping  the  leaks,  but  it  was 
without  avail. 

With  two  boys  at  each  pump  the  water 
could  be  kept  down.  That  fact  was  estab- 
lished by  an  hour's  hard  work. 

"  But  we  can't  keep  up  that  sort  of  thing," 
said  Phil.  "  We  must  stop  the  leaks  or 
abandon  the  boat." 

He  thought  for  a  while.  Then  he  said 
to  Ed:  — 

"  Get  some  ropes,  Ed,  and  make  them  fast 
251 


252    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

to  the  four  corners  of  the  tarpaulin.  Bring 
each  pair  together  about  twenty  feet  away 
from  the  rag,  and  fasten  them  to  another 
rope." 

"  What's  your  plan  ? "  asked  Irv,  who 
was  diligently  pumping. 

"  I'm  going  to  stretch  the  tarpaulin  under 
the  boat.  Sailors  stretch  a  sail  that  way 
sometimes  to  stop  a  leak." 

But  this  was  much  more  easily  said  than 
done.  When  the  tarpaulin  was  ready,  Phil 
took  all  hands  away  from  the  pumps  and, 
sending  them  to  the  skiffs,  made  an  effort  to 
force  the  great  stiff  cloth  under  the  bow. 
It  was  a  complete  failure.  The  current  was 
much  too  strong. 

Then  he  went  to  the  stern,  where  he 
hoped  that  the  current  would  be  of  assist- 
ance. But  that  attempt  also  failed.  The 
current  doubled  up  the  tarpaulin  against  the 
end  of  the  boat,  and  it  refused  to  slip  under. 
The  effort  was  several  times  repeated,  but 
always  with  the  same  result  —  failure. 

Finally  Phil  ordered  all  hands  back  to 
the  flatboat.  He  went  below  and  presently 
returned  with  a  ball  of  twine.  Unwinding 
its  entire  length  and  carefully  coiling  it  on 
deck,  he  told  Ed  to  fasten  its  farther  end  to 


A   STRUGGLE    IN   THE    DARK     253 

one  of  the  ropes  attached  to  the  tarpaulin 
strings. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do,  Phil  ?  " 

"  I'm  going  to  put  my  swimming  to  some 
practical  account.  Two  of  you  fellows  get 
into  a  skiff,  —  yes,  three  of  you,  —  and  lie 
off  the  larboard  side  of  the  boat.,, 

As  they  obeyed,  the  boy  removed  his 
clothes  and  tied  the  twine  securely  around 
his  person. 

"Watch  the  coil,  Ed,"  he  said  to  his 
brother,  "and  don't  let  it  fouf.  Give  me 
free  string  from  the  moment  I  go  overboard. 
A  very  little  pull  would  drown  me ! " 

Then,  taking  a  lantern,  Phil  scanned  the 
water  on  both  sides  of  the  boat  carefully  for 
drift  that  might  be  in  the  way.  When  all 
was  ready  he  leaped  overboard,  and  after  an 
anxious  wait  on  the  part  of  the  boys  he 
came  to  the  surface  again  on  the  other  side 
of  the  boat.  He  had  repeated  his  old  feat 
of  diving  under  the  flatboat,  but  this  time  it 
was  harder  than  ever  before.  The  strong 
current  helped  him  a  little,  for  the  flatboat, 
tied  bow  and  stern,  lay  almost  athwart  it. 
But  a  deal  of  difficulty  was  created  by  the 
necessity  of  dragging  the  twine  after  him. 
Ed  saw  to  it  that  no  tangle  should  occur, 


254    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

but  the  string  dragged  upon  the  deck  and 
over  the  side  and  again  upon  the  bottom  of 
the  boat,  so  that  a  much  longer  time  and  far 
more  exertion  was  necessary  for  the  dive 
than  had  ever  been  required  before.  In- 
deed, when  Phil  came  up  he  was  barely  clear 
of  the  gunwale  and  his  ability  to  hold  his 
breath  was  completely  at  an  end.  A  second 
more  and  he  must  have  inhaled  water  and 
drowned.  He  was  for  the  moment  too 
much  exhausted  to  climb  into  the  skiff  that 
was  waiting  for  him,  or  even  to  give  direc- 
tions to  his  companions. 

Seeing  his  condition,  Irv  and  Will  leaped 
overboard  with  their  clothes  on,  and  actually 
lifted  the  boy  into  the  skiff,  pushing  him 
over  its  side  as  if  he  had  been  a  log  or  a 
limp  sack  of  meal. 

As  soon  as  he  was  able  to  gasp  he  helped 
his  comrades  into  the  little  boat,  and  called 
out:  — 

"  Pull  away  on  the  string,  boys,  as  fast  as 
you  can,  otherwise  the  current  will  carry  it 
out  from  under  the  boat,  at  one  end  or  the 
other." 

They  obeyed  promptly  and  presently  had 
the  end  of  the  rope  in  their  grasp.  Pulling 
upon  this,  they  succeeded  in  getting  the  edge 


A   STRUGGLE   IN   THE    DARK     255 

of  the  tarpaulin  under  the  starboard  side  of 
the  flatboat.  But  there  the  thing  stuck,  and 
their  tugging  at  the  rope  only  resulted  in 
drawing  their  skiff  up  to  the  flatboat's  side. 
Phil  quickly  saw  that  "  pulling  without  a 
purchase  "  was  futile.     He  called  out :  — 

"  Row  to  that  tree  yonder,  and  we'll 
make  fast  to  it." 

When  that  was  done  the  pulling  was 
resumed,  this  time  cc  with  a  purchase."  But 
it  was  of  no  avail.  The  tarpaulin  was  drawn 
halfway  under  the  boat,  but  there  it  stuck. 

After  a  little  Phil  evolved  a  new  idea. 
Releasing  the  skiff,  he  rowed  to  the  flat- 
boat  and  directed  Irv  to  go  aboard.  Then 
returning  to  his  former  position,  he  again 
made  the  skiff  fast  to  the  tree. 

"  Now,  Irv,"  he  called  out,  "  you  and  Ed 
go  below  and  bring  up  two  or  three  barrels 
of  flour." 
,      "  What  for  ?  "  asked  Ed. 

"  Never  mind  what  for.  Do  it  quick," 
was  the  answer. 

When  the  barrels  of  flour  were  on  deck, 
Phil  said  :  — 

"  Find  the  middle  of  the  tarpaulin  as 
nearly  as  you  can,  and  roll  a  barrel  of  flour 
overboard  into  it." 


256  the  Last  of  the  flatboats 

The  thing  was  quickly  done.  The  weight 
of  the  barrel  of  flour  caused  the  tarpaulin  to 
sink  below  the  flatboat's  bottom,  and  it 
became  possible  to  drag  it  under  her  for 
a  further  space. 

"  Roll  another  barrel  overboard,"  said  the 
captain,  when  the  tarpaulin  refused  to  come 
farther.  This  enabled  the  boys  to  drag  the 
sheet  still  farther,  and  finally,  with  the  aid  of 
a  third  barrel,  they  brought  its  edge  ten  feet 
beyond  the  gunwale. 

"  Now,"  said  Phil,  "  we've  got  to  spill 
those  flour  barrels  out  of  the  cloth,  or  it 
won't  come  up  to  the  boat's  bottom  and 
stop  the  leaks." 

How  to  do  this  was  a  puzzle.  After 
studying  the  problem  for  a  while,  Phil 
directed  Ed  and  Irv  on  board  the  flatboat, 
and  Will  and  Constant  in  the  skiff,  to  relax 
the  tension  on  the  great  square  of  sailcloth. 

"  I'm  going  down  on  top  of  it,"  he  said, 
"  to  push  the  barrels  off." 

"  But  when  you  do  that,  it'll  close  up  to 
the  bottom  of  the  boat  and  catch  you  in  it," 
said  Will.     "  Don't  think  of  doing  that !  " 

"I  must,"  said  Phil,  "we're  sinking;  it's 
our  only  chance,  and  I  must  take  the  risk. 
Let  me  have  your  big  knife,  Constant." 


A   STRUGGLE   IN   THE   DARK     257 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  with  it?" 
asked  the  boy,  as  he  handed  it  to  Phil. 

"  Cut  my  way  out  if  I  can,  or  perhaps  cut 
a  way  out  for  the  flour  barrels.  Good-by, 
boys,  if  I  never  get  back.  And  thank  you 
for  everything." 

With  that  he  stepped  upon  the  tarpaulin 
and  slid  down  it  under  the  boat.  Presently 
he  came  back,  gasping  and  struggling. 

"  I  got  one  barrel  out,"  he  said.  Then 
he  waited  awhile  for  breath,  and  went  under 
again.  This  time  he  was  gone  so  long  that 
his  comrades  feared  the  worst,  with  almost 
no  hope  for  a  better  result.  But  they  could 
do  nothing.  Presently  Phil  came  up,  but 
so  exhausted  that  he  could  only  cling  in  a 
feeble  way  to  the  edge  of  the  canvas.  The 
boys  dragged  him  into  the  skiff",  and  he  lay 
upon  its  bottom  for  a  time  like  one  almost 
drowned,  which  indeed  he  was.  When  he 
had  somewhat  recovered,  Irv  called  to 
him  :  — 

"  I'm  going  down  next  time,  Phil.  You 
shan't  brag  that  you're  a  better  water-rat  than 
I  am." 

"  No,  you  mustn't,"  said  the  boy ;  "  I've 
found  out  how  to  do  the  trick  now.  But 
I've  lost  your  knife  in  the  shuffle,  Constant. 


258    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

Cast  the  skiff  loose  and  let's  go  aboard  for 
another." 

The  boy  was  so  exhausted  that  his  com- 
panions simply  forbade  him  to  make  another 
attempt. 

"You  shan't  go  down  again,"  said  Irv, 
"  and  that's  all  there  is  about  it.  If  you've 
found  out  how  to  do  the  trick,  as  you  say, 
save  my  life  by  explaining  it  to  me,  for  I'm 
going  down,  anyhow." 

The  boy  was  too  weak  to  insist.  So  he 
explained :  — 

"  Don't  go  down  on  top  of  the  sheet  as  I 
did.  Dive  under  it.  Find  the  barrels,  — 
they're  almost  exactly  in  the  middle,  —  and 
slit  the  tarpaulin  under  them  so  that  they 
can  drop  through.  Oh,  let  me  do  it,  I'm 
all  right  now." 

But  Irv  was  overboard  with  a  big  butcher 
knife  in  his  grasp,  and  the  skiff  was  again 
securely  fastened  to  its  tree. 

Irv  dived  three  times.  On  coming  up 
for  the  third  time,  he  said  with  his  irrepres- 
sible vivacity,  "One,  two,  three  times  and 
out !  Third  time's  the  charm,  you  know. 
I  beg  to  announce  that  there's  a  big  slit  in 
the  tarpaulin  and  that  the  two  barrels  of 
triple  X  family  flour  are  calmly  reposing  in 


A   STRUGGLE    IN  THE    DARK     259 

the  mud  that  underlies  The  Last  of  the  Flat- 
boats" 

"Good!"  said  Phil.  "But  we  must 
hurry." 

And  he  gave  rapid  orders  for  drawing  up 
the  canvas  on  each  side  of  the  flatboat. 
Then  he  secured  some  tackle  blocks  and 
carried  ropes  from  the  two  ends  of  the  tar- 
paulin to  the  anchor  windlass,  and  set  the 
boys  to  draw  it  as  tight  as  possible. 

Then  he  went  below,  and  found  the  water 
almost  up  to  the  level  of  the  gunwales. 
That  is  to  say,  the  boat  proper,  the  part  that 
floated  all  the  rest,  was  very  nearly  full  of 
water.  A  few  inches  more  and  the  craft 
would  have  gone  down  like  an  iron  pot  with 
a  hole  in  it. 

There  was  hurried  and  anxious  work  at 
the  pumps.  At  the  end  of  an  hour  the 
gauge  below  showed  that  the  water  in  the 
hold  had  been  reduced  by  an  inch  or  two. 

"  This  will  never  do,"  said  the  young 
captain.  "  We  can't  keep  on  pumping  like 
demons  day  and  night  till  we  get  to  New 
Orleans.  We  simply  must  find  the  leaks 
and  stop  them.  The  tarpaulin  helps  very 
greatly,  but  it  isn't  enough." 

"  But  how  ?  "  asked  Ed. 


26o    THE   LAST   OF   THE    FLATBOATS 

"  First  of  all  cast  the  flatboat  loose  and 
let  her  float,"  said  skipper  Phil.  "  It's  day- 
light now." 

"  What  good  will  that  do  ?  "  asked  one. 

"  None,  perhaps.  Perhaps  a  great  deal. 
It  will  put  us  into  a  river  for  one  thing. 
We're  in  about  as  bad  a  place  for  sinking  as 
there  could  be.  Maybe  we  shall  float  into  a 
better  one.  Maybe  we  shall  come  to  some 
place  where  the  land  is  still  out  of  water 
and  let  the  boat  sink  where  we  can  save  part 
of  the  cargo.  Maybe  anything.  Cast  loose, 
while  I  study  things  below." 


CHAPTER   XXVIII 

A    HARD-WON    VICTORY 

Phil's  further  explorations  below,  which 
occupied  perhaps  half  an  hour,  convinced 
him  that  the  pumps,  if  worked  to  their 
utmost  capacity,  were  capable  of  emptying 
the  hold  of  water  within  three  or  four  hours, 
possibly  somewhat  sooner,  as  the  tarpaulin 
was  doing  its  work  better,  now  that  the  flat- 
boat  was  cast  loose.  The  current  was  no 
longer  interfering,  as  the  boat  was  now  mov- 
ing with  the  stream,  and  the  weight  of  the 
craft  was  pressing  it  closer  to  the  canvas 
beneath. 

Phil  realized  that  to  keep  the  pumps  at 
work  to  the  full  for  so  long  a  time  would 
fearfully  tax  the  crew's  strength,  taxing  it 
perhaps  even  beyond  its  capacity  of  endur- 
ance. But  he  saw  no  alternative.  The 
water  simply  must  be  got  out  of  the  hold. 
Till  that  should  be  done  there  would  be  no 
possibility  of  finding  and  stopping  the  leaks. 
261 


262    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

So  going  again  on  deck,  he  said  to  his 
comrades  :  — 

"I'll  tell  you  what,  boys,  we've  got  to  work 
for  all  we're  worth  now  for  the  next  two  or 
three  hours.  We  must  get  at  the  inside  of 
the  bottom  of  the  boat  and  find  these  leaks. 
We  can't  do  that  till  we  empty  her  of  water, 
or  get  her  pretty  nearly  empty." 

"  But  how  in  the  world  are  we  to  get  at 
the  leaks  under  all  our  freight  ?  "  asked  Will 
Moreraud. 

"  We  have  got  to  move  the  freight,"  said 
Phil. 

"  But  where  ?  "  asked  Irv. 

"  Well,"  said  Phil,  "  we've  got  to  throw 
part  of  it  overboard,  I  suppose,  in  order  to 
give  us  room.  Then  we've  got  to  shift  the 
rest  of  it  little  by  little  from  one  spot  to 
another,  exposing  a  part  of  the  bottom  each 
time.  We  must  find  every  leak  that  we 
can,  and  stop  every  one  that  is  capable  of 
being  stopped.  It  will  take  two  or  three 
hours  to  pump  the  water  out,  and,  I  sup- 
pose, it  will  take  two  or  three  days  to  get 
these  leaks  fully  stopped.  In  the  meantime, 
we  are  all  going  to  be  enormously  tired,  and 
of  course  —  " 

"And  of  course   we'll  all  be  as  cross  as 


A    HARD-WON  VICTORY        263 

a  sawbuck,"  said  Irv  Strong ;  "  tired  people 
always  are ;  what  we've  got  to  do  is  to  look 
out  and  not  quarrel.,, 

"  Oh,  well,"  said  Phil,  "  I  will  take  care 
of  that.  I  am  as  cross  as  two  sawbucks 
already,  but  I  haven't  quarrelled  with  any- 
body yet,  and  I  don't  mean  to.  And  I'll 
keep  the  rest  of  you  too  busy  to  quarrel. 
We  will  postpone  all  that  until  we  get  to 
New  Orleans  —  " 

"  If  we  ever  do  get  to  New  Orleans,"  said 
Ed. 

"  Ever  get  to  New  Orleans  ?  Why,  we 
have  got  to  get  to  New  Orleans.  We  have 
undertaken  to  do  that  job  for  the  owners  of 
this  cargo,  and  we  are  going  to  do  it,  if  we 
have  to  pump  the  Mississippi  River  three 
times  through  this  boat  in  getting  there. 
Our  present  task  is  to  reduce  the  necessity 
for  pumping  as  much  as  we  can." 

Phil  found  by  experiment  that  one  boy  at 
each  pump  was  nearly  as  efficient  as  two,  and 
as  the  work  of  pumping  was  exhausting,  he 
decided  to  keep  only  two  boys  at  it,  one  at 
each  pump.  Then,  taking  the  other  two 
with  him,  he  went  below  and  with  buckets 
they  began  dipping  water  from  the  hold  and 
pouring  it  overboard   at  the  bow.     In  this 


264    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

way  they  added  largely  to  the  work  of  the 
pumps,  and  every  fifteen  minutes  or  so  two 
of  the  boys  handling  buckets  would  go  to 
the  pumps,  and  the  two  tired  fellows  at  the 
pumps  would  come  below  and  work  with 
buckets. 

It  was  wearisome  work,  but  there  was  at 
any  rate  the  encouragement  of  success.  By 
one  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  the  water  in  the 
hold  was  so  far  reduced  that  it  was  no  longer 
possible  to  dip  it  up  with  buckets  with  any 
profit.  So  Phil  stopped  that  part  of  the 
work,  and  decided  to  keep  the  boys  on  very 
short  shifts  at  the  pumps,  leaving  them  to 
rest  completely  between  their  tours  of  duty. 
He  let  two  of  them  work  for  ten  minutes. 
Then  another  pair  took  their  places  for  ten 
minutes.  Then  the  fifth  one  of  the  party 
—  for  Phil  did  his  "  stint "  like  the  rest  — 
became  one  of  the  relief  pair,  thus  giving 
one  boy  twenty  minutes'  rest  instead  of  ten. 
This  extra  rest  came  in  its  turn  of  course  to 
each  of  the  boys,  so  that  each  boy  worked 
forty  minutes  —  ten  minutes  at  a  time  — 
and  rested  sixty  minutes  out  of  every  one 
hundred  minutes  or  every  hour  and  two- 
thirds. 

About  five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  Phil 


A    HARD-WON   VICTORY        265 

made  one  of  his  frequent  journeys  of  inspec- 
tion in  the  hold.  He  came  on  deck  with 
an  encouraged  look  in  his  tired  face. 

"We've  got  the  water  pretty  nearly  all 
out  now,  boys.  Our  next  job  is  to  keep 
it  out  by  stopping  leaks.  We'll  work  one 
pump  all  the  time.  I  think  that  will  keep 
even  with  the  leaks,  or  pretty  nearly  so.  If 
we  find  the  water  gaining  on  us,  we'll  set  the 
other  pump  going  for  a  while." 

"And  what's  your  plan  for  stopping 
leaks,  Phil  ? "  asked  Irv. 

"  First  of  all  we'll  find  the  leaks,"  said 
Phil.  "  Then  we'll  do  whatever  we  can  to 
stop  them." 

"  Oh,  yes,  we  know  that,"  said  Irv,  with  a 
touch  of  irritation  in  his  voice,  "  but  you 
know  I  meant  —  " 

"  Come,  Irv,  no  quarrelling  !  "  said  Will 
Moreraud.  "  You're  tired  and  cross,  but 
so  are  the  rest  of  us." 

"  I  own  up,  and  beg  pardon,"  said  Irv, 
regaining  his  good  nature  by  an  effort,  but 
instantly.  "  Phil,  may  I  take  time  for  a 
cold  plunge  before  you  assign  me  to  my 
next  duty  ?  " 

"Certainly,"  said  Phil.  "And  I'll  take 
one  with  you.     Come,  boys,  we'll  all  be  the 


266    THE   LAST    OF   THE    FLATBOATS 

better  for  the  shock  of  a  shockingly  cold 
bath.     Jump  in,  all  of  you  ! " 

And  they  all  did,  for,  to  the  surprise  of 
every  one,  Ed  leaped  overboard  with  them 
and  swam  twice  around  the  boat  before  com- 
ing out  of  the  very  cold  water  and  into  the 
still  colder  air. 

"  Ed's  getting  well,  Phil,"  said  Irv. 

"Yes,"  said  Phil,  as  he  watched  his 
brother  rubbing  himself  down.  "  Two 
weeks  ago  he  would  have  come  out  of  that 
water  shivering  as  if  with  an  ague,  and 
the  color  of  a  table-cloth.  Now  look  at 
him !  He's  as  red  as  a  boiled  lobster,  and 
he's  actually  laughing  as  he  rubs  the  skin 
off  with  that  piece  of  sanded  tarpaulin  that 
he  has  mistaken  for  a  Turkish  towel.  Here, 
Ed,  take  a  towel,  or  would  you  rather  have 
some  sandpaper  or  a  rasp  ?  " 

"Thanks,  old  fellow,"  said  Ed,  who  had 
of  course  heard  all  the  remarks  concerning 
himself,  "  but  this  cloth  feels  good.  I  be- 
lieve I  am  getting  better.  I've  quit  c  bark- 
ing '  anyhow." 

"That's  so,"  said  Irv.  "You  haven't 
dared  utter  a  cough  since  that  morning  when 
The  Last  of  the  Flat  boats  tried  to  make  the 
last  of  herself  by  quitting  the  river  and  com- 


A    HARD-WON   VICTORY        267 

ing  off  on  this  little  picnic  in  the  Mississippi 
swamps/' 

"  If  you  young  gentlemen  have  quite 
finished  your  discussion  of  past  happenings, 
and  are  ready  to  give  attention  to  present 
exigencies/'  said  Phil,  in  that  mocking  tone 
which  he  sometimes  playfully  adopted, 
"you'll  please  put  your  clothes  on  and 
report  for  duty  in  the  hold,  where  there's 
some  important  work  to  be  done.  It's  your 
turn  at  the  pump,  Constant.  Get  thee  to 
thy  task,  and  don't  forget  to  remind  me 
when  your  time's  up. 

"  Now,"  said  Phil,  when  they  threw  open 
the  forward  door  of  the  flatboat  to  open  a 
passage  for  taking  out  freight,  "  I  suppose 
we  ought  to  divide  up  the  loss  by  throw- 
ing out  about  an  equal  quantity  of  each 
owner's  freight.  But  we  can't  do  it,  so 
there's  an  end  of  that." 

"  Oh,  the  law  will  take  care  of  all  that," 
said  Ed. 

"  The  law  ?     How  ?  " 

"  Why  the  law  requires  everybody  inter- 
ested in  the  boat  or  the  cargo  to  share  the 
loss,  when  freight  must  be  thrown  overboard 
to  save  the  ship." 

"  But  how  can  that  be  done  ?  "  asked  Irv. 


268    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

"  Why,  we  must  keep  account  of  what  we 
throw  overboard.  When  we  sell  the  rest  at 
New  Orleans,  we  shall  know  just  what  was 
the  value  of  the  part  jettisoned,  —  that's  the 
law  term  for  throwing  things  overboard,  I 
believe,  —  and  that  loss  must  be  divided 
among  the  owners  of  the  boat  herself,  the 
owners  of  cargo  on  board,  and  the  insurance 
companies,  if  any  of  the  freight  is  insured. 
Each  one's  share  of  the  loss  will  be  in  pre- 
cise proportion  to  his  interest." 

"  Illustrate,"  said  Will  Moreraud. 

"Well,"  rejoined  Ned,  "suppose  we  find 
the  boat  and  her  total  cargo  to  be  worth  one 
thousand  dollars  —  " 

"  Oh,  rubbish  !  It's  worth  many  times 
that,"  broke  in  Will.  "Why,  I  should 
value  —  " 

"  Never  mind  that,"  said  the  other.  "  I'm 
c  supposing  a  case,'  as  Irv  says,  and  simply 
for  convenience  I  take  one  thousand  dollars 
as  the  total  value  of  the  boat  and  everything 
in  her.  Now,  suppose  we  have  to  throw 
overboard  one  hundred  dollars'  worth. 
That  is  one-tenth  of  the  whole.  That 
tenth  must  be  divided,  not  equally,  but 
proportionally,  among  all  the  persons  inter- 
ested.    Suppose  the  boat  is  worth  two  hun- 


A    HARD-WON   VICTORY        269 

dred  dollars.  That  is  one-fifth  the  total 
value,  and  so  the  boat  owners  must  bear 
one-fifth  of  the  one  hundred  dollars'  loss. 
That  is  to  say,  we  fellows  should  have  to 
'  pony  up '  twenty  dollars  among  us,  or  four 
dollars  apiece.  A  man  owning  three  hundred 
dollars'  worth  of  freight  would  be  charged 
thirty  dollars,  and  so  on  through  the  list." 

"  Oh,  I  see,"  said  Phil,  who  in  the  mean- 
time had  been  studying  ways  and  means  of 
accomplishing  the  practical  purpose  in  hand. 
"  And  a  very  good  arrangement  it  is.  Now 
stop  talking,  and  let's  heave  out  some  of 
these  bales  of  hay." 

f  Why  not  take  some  of  the  other  things 
instead  ?  "  asked  Irv.  "  They  are  heavier, 
and  to  throw  them  over  would  lighten  the 
boat  more." 

All  this  while  the  boys  were  at  work 
getting  the  hay  out. 

"We  aren't  trying  to  lighten  the  boat," 
replied  Phil.  "  We're  only  trying  to  make 
room,  and  the  hay  takes  up  more  room,  dol- 
lar's worth  for  dollar's  worth,  than  anything 
else.  So  it's  cheapest  to  c jettison'  hay  — 
thanks  for  that  new  word,  Ed.  Now,  heave 
ho  !"  And  the  first  bale  of  hay  went  over 
the  bow  into  the  water. 


270    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

"  Now,  another  !  " 

In  a  brief  time  a  considerable  space  was 
cleared. 

"  That  will  do,  I  think/'  said  Phil.  "  We 
shan't  have  to  c  jettison '  anything  more,  if 
you  fellows  will  stop  your  chatter  and  get 
to  work.  If  you  don't,  I'll  jettison  some  of 
the  crew." 

This  brought  a  needed  smile,  for  the  boys 
were  by  this  time  almost  exhausted  with 
work  and  loss  of  sleep.  Phil  thought  of 
this.  He  had  not  himself  slept  a  moment 
since  his  discovery  that  the  boat  was  sinking 
at  midnight  of  the  night  before,  while  all  the 
rest  had  caught  refreshing  little  naps  between 
their  tours  of  duty  at  the  pumps.  But  he 
left  himself  out  of  the  account  in  laying  his 
plans. 

"  See  here,  boys,"  he  said,  "  there  isn't 
room  for  more  than  one  of  you  to  work 
here  with  me  at  these  leaks.  One  must 
stay  at  the  pump  on  deck,  of  course,  but 
the  other  two  might  as  well  go  to  sleep  till 
we  need  you  to  move  freight  again." 

"  Oh,  I  like  that,"  said  Irv.  "  But  why 
shouldn't  you  do  a  little  of  the  sleeping,  in- 
stead of  shoving  it  all  off  on  us,  as  you've 
done  all  day  ?  " 


A    HARD-WON   VICTORY         271 

"  Oh,  never  mind  about  me.  I  shan't 
sleep  till  we  get  things  in  shape,  so  you  and 
Ed  go  to  sleep.  You  go  and  relieve  Con- 
stant at  the  pump,  Will,  and  let  him  come 
and  help  me." 

"You  said  there  was  to  be  no  quarrel- 
ling/' said  Irv,  "  and  I  have  thus  far  obeyed. 
I  have  even  stood  Ed's  exposition  of  the 
law  about  throwing  freight  overboard,  with- 
out a  murmur,  but  now  I'm  going  to  quarrel 
with  the  skipper  of  this  craft,  if  he  doesn't 
consent  to  take  his  full  and  fair  share  of  the 
sleeping  that  simply  has  to  be  done.  He 
always  takes  his  full  share  of  the  work,  even 
to  the  cooking.  It  was  only  yesterday  that 
he  made  the  worst  pot  of  coffee  we've  had 
yet.  I  insist  that  he  shall  not  be  permitted 
basely  to  shirk  his  fair  share  of  the  sleeping." 

The  other  boys  echoed  the  kindly  senti- 
ment that  Irv  had  put  in  that  playful  way, 
and  Phil  was  touched  by  their  consideration. 
Instinctively  holding  out  his  hands  to  them, 
he  said :  — 

"Thank  you,  fellows.  It's  awfully  good 
of  you.  But  I  simply  could  not  sleep  now. 
I  cannot  close  my  eyes  till  I  see  this  work 
of  stopping  leaks  so  well  advanced  as  to  be 
sure  that  the  boat  is  safe.     I  promise  you 


272    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

that  just  as  soon  as  that  is  accomplished  I'll 
let  you  fellows  go  on  with  the  work,  and  I'll 
take  even  a  double  turn  at  sleeping." 

"You'll  promise  that?" 

"  Yes.  And  by  way  of  compromise,  and 
to  keep  you  from  quarrelling,  Irv,  I'll  let 
you  postpone  your  first  sleeping  turn  till 
you  can  get  me  something  hot  to  swallow  — 
a  canned  soup  with  an  egg  in  it,  or  some- 
thing else  sustaining.     I'm  hungry." 

During  the  day's  excitements  there  had 
been  no  regular  meals  served  on  the  boat, 
but  as  there  happened  to  be  a  cold  boiled 
ham  in  the  larder  and  plenty  of  bread,  the 
boys  had  indulged  frequently  in  sandwiches. 
But  it  now  occurred  to  them  that  Phil,  in 
his  anxiety,  had  quite  forgotten  to  do  this, 
and  had,  in  fact,  eaten  nothing  whatever  for 
more  than  eighteen  hours.  So  Irv  hastened 
to  prepare  him  some  food  of  the  kind  he 
had  asked  for. 

In  the  meantime,  Phil  and  Constant,  armed 
with  hammers  and  nails,  and  bits  of  board 
which  they  from  time  to  time  sawed  or  cut 
to  fit  spaces,  were  busy  at  the  leaks.  When 
they  had  done  all  they  could  in  that  way 
within  the  space  laid  bare  by  the  removal  of 
the  hay,  they  rolled  other  freight  into  that 


A   TOUR    OF    INSPECTION. 
;  Hello !     Irv  ;  we've  found  the  crevasse  at  last. 


A   HARD-WON   VICTORY         273 

space,  thus  exposing  another  part  of  the 
bottom. 

In  this  way  the  work  went  forward  during 
the  night,  all  of  the  boys  except  Phil  secur- 
ing some  sleep  in  brief  snatches,  and  all  of 
them  ministering,  so  far  as  they  were  per- 
mitted, to  their  captain's  need  for  tempting 
food. 

About  daylight,  in  making  a  shift  of 
freight,  Phil  suddenly  came  upon  something 
that  made  him  call  out :  — 

"  Hello  !  what's  this  ?  I  say,  Irv,"  —  for 
Irving  was  then  working  with  him,  —  "  we've 
found  the  crevasse  at  last." 

"I  should  say  so,"  said  Irv,  with  a  slower 
drawl  than  usual,  as  he  held  up  his  lantern 
and  looked.  "The  Mississippi  River  and 
all  its  large  and  interesting  family  of  tribu- 
taries seem  trying  to  come  aboard  here." 

Just  where  the  gunwale  joined  the  bottom 
planks  of  the  boat  a  great  seam  had  been 
wrenched  open,  and  the  water  was  actually 
spouting  and  spurting  through  it. 

"There's  one  consolation,"  said  Phil. 
"There  isn't  any  other  leak  like  this  any- 
where." 

"  How  do  you  know  ?  " 

"Why,  if  there  were  two  such,  we  should 

T 


274    THE    LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

have  gone  to  Davy  Jones's  locker  long 
ago." 

Then  the  two  boys  set  to  work  trying  to 
fasten  a  board  over  the  open  seam,  but  their 
efforts  failed  completely.  Their  united 
strength  was  not  sufficient  even  to  press  the 
board  against  the  timbers,  much  less  to  hold 
it  in  place  long  enough  to  nail  it  there.  For 
the  whole  weight  of  the  boat  and  cargo  was 
pressing  down  into  the  river  and  forcing  this 
jet  of  water  upward  through  the  opening. 

"  Call  the  entire  crew,  Irv,"  said  Phil. 
"We  shall  need  them  all  for  this  job  —  in- 
cluding the  fellow  at  the  pump." 

Then,  while  Irv  went  to  summon  the  boys, 
Phil  secured  a  piece  of  plank  three  inches 
thick,  very  green  and  very  heavy,  which  had 
been  purchased  at  Vevay  to  serve  as  a  stag- 
ing over  which  to  roll  freight  in  taking  it  on 
or  discharging  it. 

"  Get  me  the  brace  and  bit,  Will  —  the 
quarter-inch  auger  bit.  And,  Ed,  see  if  you 
can  find  the  spikes  that  were  left  over  in 
building  the  boat.  Bring  the  heaviest  ham- 
mers we've  got  too,  some  of  you." 

All  this  while  the  boy  was  measuring,  cal- 
culating, sawing,  and  hewing  with  an  axe  to 
fit  his  great  plank  to  its  place.     He  bored 


A    HARD-WON    VICTORY         275 

holes  in  it  at  intervals,  to  facilitate  the  driv- 
ing of  spikes  through  its  tough  and  tenacious 
thickness. 

When  all  was  ready,  the  boys  made  a 
strenuous  effort  to  force  the  timber  down 
against  the  crack,  but  to  no  purpose.  Their 
strength  and  weight  were  not  sufficient. 

Presently  a  happy  thought  struck  Will 
Moreraud. 

"  Wait  a  minute,"  he  said,  and  with  that 
he  rolled  several  barrels  of  corn  meal  into 
the  open  space. 

"Now,"  he  cried,  "three  of  you  stand  on 
one  end  of  the  plank  while  I  drive  it  into 
place.  Let  the  other  end  ride  free  of  the 
bottom,  but  one  of  you  hold  it  so  that  it 
can't  slew  away  from  the  gunwale." 

The  boys  did  this,  and  Will  succeeded  in 
driving  one  end  of  the  timber  into  place 
while  three  of  his  comrades  stood  upon  that 
end  of  it.  The  other  end  was  held  up  by 
the  waterspout  a  foot  from  the  bottom  of 
the  boat,  but  Ed  was  holding  it  against  the 
gunwale,  in  the  place  where  it  was  desired  to 
force  it  down. 

"Now,  hold  it  so,"  said  Will,  "and  I'll 
force  it  down." 

With  that  he  turned  a  two-hundred-pound 


276    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

barrel  of  meal  on  end  upon  the  plank  just 
beyond  the  point  where  the  three  boys  were 
standing.  This  pressed  the  timber  down 
somewhat,  and  Will  helped  it  with  another 
barrel.  Then  he  began  bringing  heavy  sacks 
of  corn  and  oats,  so  heavy  that  he  could 
scarcely  handle  them.  These  he  piled  high 
on  top  of  the  meal  barrels,  and  the  combined 
weight  forced  the  plank  down  to  within  an 
inch  of  the  bottom. 

With  one  end  securely  weighted  down,  he 
began  piling  freight  in  the  same  way  upon 
the  other.  Now  and  then  the  resisting  water 
would  push  the  heavy  and  heavily  weighted 
plank  away  from  the  gunwale  and  force  a 
passage  for  itself  between.  But  when  the 
plank  was  securely  weighted  down  upon  the 
bottom,  two  or  three  of  the  boys,  acting 
together,  were  able,  with  axes  and  heavy  ham- 
mers, to  drive  it  finally  and  firmly  against  the 
side  of  the  boat. 

Then  with  the  long  wrought-iron  spikes  it 
was  firmly  secured  in  its  place, but  Phil  decided 
not  to  remove  any  of  the  freight  that  was 
piled  on  top  of  it,  lest  the  tremendous  water 
pressure  from  below  should  force  even  the 
great  iron  spikes  out  of  their  sockets  and 
set  the  leak  going  again.    Indeed,  to  prevent 


A   HARD-WON   VICTORY        277 

this  he  directed  his  comrades  to  pile  all  the 
freight  they  could  so  that  its  weight  should 
fall  upon  the  protecting  timber. 

By  the  time  that  all  this  was  done  it  was 
eleven  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  Irv 
Strong  turned  to  Phil  with  an  earnest  look 
in  his  eyes,  and  said :  — 

"  We  claim  the  fulfilment  of  your  promise, 
Phil.     You  must  go  to  sleep  now." 

The  other  boys  stood  by  Irv's  side  with 
faces  as  earnest  as  his  own.  It  was  obvious 
that  he  spoke  for  all  of  them  and  as  the 
result  of  an  understanding.  Phil  hesitated 
for  a  moment.     Then  he  said  :  — 

"Thank  you,  fellows,  all  of  you.  1*11  do 
as  you  say." 

As  he  almost  staggered  toward  the  cabin 
in  his  exhaustion,  he  paused,  still  thoughtful 
of  the  general  welfare,  and  said  :  — 

"  Irv,  you  take  charge  while  I  sleep,  and 
call  me  if  anything  happens." 

Two  minutes  later  the  lad  was  deeply 
slumbering. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 


RESCUE 


When  Phil  at  last  waked,  Ed  was  putting 
supper  on  the  table,  and  it  was  rather  a  late 
supper  too,  for  the  boys  had  purposely  post- 
poned it  in  order  to  let  Phil  get  all  the 
sleep  possible.  He  had  in  fact  slept  for 
fully  eight  hours. 

"  Well,  how  do  you  feel  now,  skipper  ?  " 
asked  Will. 

"  I  don't  know  exactly,"  answered  the 
boy,  yawning  and  stretching.  "  Stupid  for 
the  most  part,  hungry  for  the  rest  of  it.  I 
say,  what  time  of  day  or  night  is  it  ?  " 

"  It's  about  eight  thirty  p.m.,"  answered 
Constant,  pulling  out  his  antique  Swiss 
watch  and  consulting  it. 

"Yes,  but  what  p.m.?  What  day  is  it? 
When  did  I  go  to  sleep  ? " 

The  boys    soon    straightened   things   out 

in    their    captain's    temporarily   bewildered 

mind.     The   effort  to   do   so  was  aided  by 

the  sight  and  smell  of  a  great  platter  which 

278 


RESCUE  279 


Ed  at  that  moment  set  upon  the  table.  It 
held  a  "  boiled  dinner."  There  was  a  juicy 
brisket  of  corned  beef  on  top.  Under  it 
were  peeled  and  boiled  potatoes,  boiled  tur- 
nips still  retaining  their  shape,  and  beneath 
all  was  the  last  cabbage  on  board,  the  remains 
of  a  purchase  made  at  Memphis  a  week  or 
ten  days  before,  though  to  the  boys  it 
seemed  many  moons  past. 

As  Phil  eyed  the  savory  dish  he  became 
for  the  first  time  fully  awake. 

"I  say,  fellows/ '  he  broke  out,  "what 
does  this  mean  ?  Why  didn't  you  have 
this  sort  of  thing  for  dinner  instead  of  keep- 
ing it  for  supper  ?  " 

"  Because  you  weren't  awake  at  dinner 
time  to  help  us  eat  it,  Phil.  It's  the  last 
really  good  meal  we're  likely  to  see  for  days 
to  come,  and  we  —  " 

"You  see,"  broke  in  Irv  Strong,  "we're 
bound  to  build  you  up  again,  Phil,  if  we 
have  to  do  it  with  a  hammer  and  nails. 
But  how  recklessly  you  expose  your  country 
breeding  !  "  as  he  helped  all  round  ;  "  if  you 
were  captain  of  an  ocean  liner  now  instead 
of  a  flatboat,  you  would  know  that  dinner 
before  six  o'clock  is  impossible  to  civilized 
man,  and  that  the  actual  dinner  hour  in  all 


28o    THE   LAST   OF   THE    FLATBOATS 

those  regions  where  dress  coats  and  culture 
prevail,  ranges  from  seven  to  eight  o'clock/' 

"  You  are  unjust  in  your  mockery,  Irv," 
said  Ed.  "  And  by  that  you  in  your  turn 
simply  expose  your  provincialism — and  ours, 
too. 

"How?"  asked  Irv,  chuckling  to  think 
that  he  had  succeeded  in  diverting  the  con- 
versation from  channels  in  which  it  might 
easily  have  become  emotional.  For  all  the 
boys  had  been  for  hours  under  a  strain  of 
severe  anxiety  on  Phil's  account.  They 
were  full  of  admiration  for  the  self-sacri- 
ficing way  in  which  he  had  worked  and 
thought  and  planned  for  the  common  wel- 
fare. They  had  been  touched  to  the  heart 
by  his  exhaustion  after  his  strenuous  work 
was  done,  and  they  had  been  anxious  all 
that  afternoon,  lest  the  breakdown  of  his 
strength  should  prove  to  be  lasting.  His 
appetite  at  supper  relieved  that  fear,  but  the 
very  relief  made  them  all  the  more  disposed 
to  be  a  trifle  tender  toward  him.  Irv  had 
prevented  a  scene,  so  he  didn't  mind  Ed's 
criticism. 

"How's  that,  Ed?" 

"  Why,  when  you  sneer  at  people  because 
their  customs  are  different  from  those  that 


RESCUE  281 


we  are  used  to,  don't  you  see  you  are  just 
as  narrow-minded  as  they  are  when  they 
sneer  at  us  because  our  customs  are  not 
theirs." 

"  Oh,  I  didn't  mean  to  sneer,"  said  Irv. 
"  But,  of  course,  it  does  seem  odd  for  people 
to  eat  dinner  at  six  or  seven  o'clock  in 
the  evening,  instead  of  eating  it  about 
noon." 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it.  The  dinner  hour  is  a 
matter  of  convenience.  In  a  little  town  like 
ours  it  is  convenient  for  everybody  to  go 
home  to  dinner  at  noon,  and  so  everybody 
does  it.  In  a  big  city  where  people  live  five 
or  ten  miles  away  from  their  places  of  busi- 
ness, it  is  impossible.  In  such  cities  busi- 
ness doesn't  begin  till  nine  or  ten  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  when  the  banks  and  ex- 
changes open,  and  it  is  in  every  way  handier 
to  have  dinner  after  the  day's  work  is  done. 
Our  habits  are  just  as  odd  to  city  people  as 
theirs  are  to  us." 

"Oh,  yes,  I  see  that,"  said  Irv,  "and 
c  Farmer  Hayseed '  is  just  as  snobbish  when 
he  laughs  at  c  them  city  folks '  as  the  city 
people  are  when  they  ridicule  him.  It  re- 
minds me  of  the  nursery  story  about  the 
town  mouse  and  the  country  mouse." 


282    THE    LAST    OF   THE    FLATBOATS 

"  How  about  the  leaks,  fellows  ? "  asked 
Phil,  who  was  now  quite  himself  again. 

"  There  aren't  any  to  speak  of/'  reported 
Irv.  "  We've  gone  over  the  whole  bottom 
of  the  boat  now,  stopping  every  little  crack, 
and  now  she's  as  dry  as  a  bone.  Five  min- 
utes' pumping  in  an  hour  is  quite  enough." 

"All  right!"  said  the  captain.  "Then 
we'll  take  off  her  bandages  in  the  morning. 
With  that  tarpaulin  wrapped  around  her  she 
looks  like  Sally  Hopper  when  she  comes  to 
school  with  a  toothache  and  a  swelled  jaw 
bound  up  in  flannel." 

But  the  next  morning  brought  with  it 
some  other  and  more  pressing  work  than 
that  of  removing  the  tarpaulin. 

At  daylight  the  boat  was  floating  easily 
and  rapidly  down  the  middle  of  the  over- 
flowed river,  when  Phil,  who  was  on  deck, 
saw  half  a  mile  ahead,  a  group  of  people 
huddled  together  upon  a  small  patch  of 
ground  that  protruded  above  the  water.  It 
was,  in  fact,  the  top  of  one  of  those  very 
high  Indian  mounds  that  abound  in  the 
Sunflower  swamp  country. 

Calling  the  other  boys  on  deck,  Phil  took 
a  skiff  and  rowed  ahead  as  rapidly  as  he 
could.       When  he  reached   the  little  patch 


RESCUE  283 


of  dry  land,  which  was  circular  in  shape,  and 
did  not  exceed  twenty  feet  in  diameter,  he 
found  a  family  of  people  in  a  woful  state  of 
destitution  and  wretchedness. 

They  had  no  fire  and  no  fuel.  They  had 
been  for  several  days  without  food  and  were 
now  so  weak  that  they  could  scarcely  speak 
above  a  whisper.  The  party  consisted  of  a 
father,  a  mother,  three  big-eyed  children,  and 
a  negro  man. 

The  negro  man,  great  stalwart  fellow  that 
he  was,  was  now  the  most  exhausted  one  of 
the  party,  while  the  youngest  of  the  children, 
whom  the  others  called  "  Baby,"  as  if  she  were 
yet  too  small  to  carry  a  name  of  her  own,  was 
still  chipper  and  full  of  interest  in  the  strange 
things  about  her  when  she  was  taken  on  board 
the  flatboat. 

The  work  of  rescue  occupied  a  consider- 
able time  and  cost  the  boys  some  very  hard 
work.  The  people  on  the  mound  were  too 
feeble  from  hunger  and  long  exposure  even 
to  help  in  their  own  deliverance.  The  negro 
man  had  to  be  lifted  bodily  into  a  skiff  and 
laid  out  at  full  length  upon  its  bottom. 
The  rest,  except  "  Baby  "  were  not  in  much 
better  condition.  The  man  could  walk  in- 
deed, in  an   unsteady   way,  but   he  was   so 


284    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

dazed  in  his  mind  that  it  required  force  to 
keep  him  from  dropping  out  of  the  skiff  on 
the  way  to  the  flatboat. 

The  woman  and  the  two  older  children 
were  chewing  strips  of  leather,  cut  from  the 
man's  boot  tops.  The  baby  continually 
sucked  its  thumb. 

People  in  such  condition  are  very  difficult 
to  manage.  They  are  physically  incapable 
of  doing  anything  to  help  themselves,  and 
mentally  just  alert  enough  to  interfere  queru- 
lously with  the  efforts  of  others  to  help 
them.  To  get  such  a  company  into  frail, 
unsteady  skiffs,  to  row  them  away  to  the 
flatboat,  and  then  to  "  hoist  them  aboard," 
as  Phil  called  the  operation,  required  quite 
two  hours  of  very  hard  work,  but  it  was 
accomplished  at  last. 

But  to  get  them  aboard  was  only  the  be- 
ginning of  the  work  of  rescue.  They  were 
starving  and  they  must  be  fed.  Phil  was 
for  setting  out  the  remainder  of  the  last 
evening's  boiled  dinner  at  once  and  bidding 
them  help  themselves.  But  Irv's  superior 
knowledge  of  such  matters  prevented  that 
disastrous  blunder. 

"  Why,  don't  you  know,  Phil,  that  to  give 
them  even  an  ounce  of  solid  food  now  would 


RESCUE.  285 


be  to  kill  them  !  Open  a  can  of  consomme, 
and  heat  it  quick." 

When  the  soup  was  ready  he  peppered  it 
lavishly,  explaining  to  Ed  :  — 

"  The  problem  is  not  merely  to  get  food 
into  their  stomachs,  but  to  get  their  stom- 
achs to  turn  the  food  to  some  account  after 
weVe  got  it  there.  In  their  weakened  con- 
dition they  can't  digest  anything  solid,  and 
it  is  a  serious  question  whether  their  stom- 
achs can  even  manage  this  thin,  watery  soup. 
So  Fm  putting  pepper  into  it  as  a  c  bracer.' 
It  will  stimulate  their  stomachs  to  do  their 
work." 

As  he  explained,  he  fed  the  soup  to  the 
sufferers  —  a  single  spoonful  to  each.  They 
were  clamorous  for  more,  but  Irv  was 
resolute. 

"  Wait  till  I  see  how  that  goes,"  he  said. 
"You  can't  have  any  more  till  I  say  the 
word." 

The  children  cried.  The  woman  hyster- 
ically laughed  and  cried  alternately.  The 
man  sat  still  with  bowed  head  and  with  the 
tears  trickling  down  his  face  —  whether  tears 
of  joy,  of  distress,  or  of  mere  weakness,  it 
was  hard  to  say. 

The  negro  man  was  too  far  gone  even 


286    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

to  swallow.  Irv  had  to  turn  him  on  his 
back  and  literally  pour  a  spoonful  of  soup 
down  his  throat.  Then  he  said  to  Ed  and 
Constant :  — 

"  I'm  afraid  this  man  is  dying.  His 
hands  are  very  cold  and  so  are  his  feet  — 
cold  to  the  knees.  Take  some  towels — no, 
here,"  seizing  a  blanket  from  one  of  the 
bunks,  —  "take  this.  Dip  it  into  boiling 
water,  —  fortunately  we've  got  it  ready, — 
wring  the  blanket  out  and  wrap  his  feet  and 
legs  in  it,  from  the  knees  down.  Then 
take  towels  and  do  the  same  for  his  hands. 
Pound  him,  too,  punch  him,  roll  him  about 
—  bulldoze  and  kuklux  him  in  every  way 
you  can  till  you  get  his  blood  to  going 
again !  It's  the  only  way  to  save  the  poor 
fellow's  life." 

By  this  time  Irv  deemed  it  safe  to  give 
each  of  his  other  patients  another  spoonful 
or  two  of  the  soup,  and  he  even  ventured 
to  pour  three  more  spoonfuls  down  the 
throat  of  the  negro. 

"  He's  reviving  a  little,"  Irv  explained. 
"  And  as  a  strong  man,  with  a  robust  stom- 
ach accustomed  to  coarse  food,  he  can  stand 
more  soup  than  the  others." 

Thus   little   by  little   Irv   and    Ed,   with 


RESCUE  287 


such  assistance  from  the  other  boys  as  they 
needed,  slowly  brought  the  starving  party 
back  to  life.  As  the  negro  man  had  been 
the  first  to  succumb  to  starvation,  —  perhaps 
because  his  robust  physical  nature  demanded 
more  food  than  more  delicately  constructed 
bodies  do,  —  so  he  was  the  first  to  recover. 
By  nightfall  he  was  walking  about  on  the 
deck,  while  all  the  rest  were  still  lying  in  the 
bunks  below  as  invalids. 

After  awhile  Irv  stopped  him. 

"  Did  anybody  ever  tell  you  that  you're 
an  exceptional  personage  ?  " 

"  Lor'  no,  boss.  Well,  yes,  some  o'  de 
black  folks  in  de  chu'ch  done  took  'ceptions 
to  me  sometimes  'cause  I  wouldn't  give 
enough  to  de  cause,  but  fore  de  court, 
boss—" 

"That  isn't  what  I  mean,"  broke  in  Irv, 
with  smiles  rippling  all  over  him,  and  run- 
ning down  even  to  his  legs.  "  I  mean,  did 
anybody  ever  notice  that  you  were,  —  oh, 
well,  never  mind  that ;  but  tell  me,  would 
you  like  a  good  big  slice  of  cold  corned  beef 
before  you  go  to  sleep  ?  " 

The  negro  answered  in  words.  But  his 
more  emphatic  answer  was  not  one  of  words. 
He  threw  his  arms  around  Irv  in  a  giant's 


288    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

embrace  that  almost  crushed  the  youth's 
bones. 

"  There,  that  will  do/'  said  Irv.  "  You 
have  an  engagement  as  a  cotton  compress 
or  something  of  that  sort,  when  you're  at 
home,  I  suppose.  But  now,  if  I  let  you 
have  a  good  big  slice  of  cold  corned  beef 
to-night,  will  you  eat  it  just  as  I  tell  you, 
take  a  bite  when  I  tell  you  and  at  no  other 
time,  and  stop  whenever  I  tell  you  ?  Will 
you  promise  ? " 

"  Shuah,  sar,  shuah,"  eagerly  responded 
the  man. 

"  But  c  sure '  isn't  enough,"  replied  Irv, 
half  in  amusement  and  half  in  seriousness, 
for  he  felt  that  his  experiment  was  very 
risky,  and  he  wanted  to  be  able  to  regulate 
it,  and  stop  it  at  any  point.  "Sure  isn't 
enough.  Will  you  promise  me  on  the  isos- 
celes triangle  ?  " 

"Yes,  boss." 

"  On  the  grand  panjandrum  ?  " 

"  For  shuah." 

"And  even  on  the  parallelopipedon 
itself?" 

"  Shuah,  boss.  I  dunno  what  dem  names 
mean,  but  for  shuah  I'll  do  jes'  what  you 
tells  me  to  if  you'll  lem'  me  have  de  meat." 


RESCUE  289 


Irv  was  satisfied.  He  went  below  and 
prepared  a  sandwich.  Returning,  he  al- 
lowed the  man  to  eat  it  in  bites,  with  long 
intervals  between.  It  not  only  did  no  harm, 
it  restored  the  man  to  such  vitality  that  Phil 
decided  to  get  some  information  out  of  him 
as  to  the  flatboat's  whereabouts. 

He  learned  first  that  the  rescued  fam- 
ily sleeping  below  was  that  of  a  well-to-do 
planter;  that  the  flood,  coming  as  it  did  as  the 
result  of  a  crevasse,  and  therefore  suddenly, 
had  taken  them  completely  by  surprise,  in 
the  middle  of  the  night,  four  or  five  days 
ago  ;  that  they  had  with  difficulty  escaped 
to  the  Indian  mound  in  a  field  near  by,  and 
that  they  had  not  been  able  to  take  with 
them  any  food,  or  anything  else  except  the 
clothes  they  had  on.  This  accounted  for 
the  fact  that  the  woman  wore  only  a  wrapper 
over  her  nightdress,  that  the  man  was  nearly 
naked,  and  that  the  children  were  clad  only 
in  their  thin  little  nightgowns. 

Then  Phil  learned  that  The  Last  of  the 
Flatboats  was  now  in  the  Tallahatchie  River, 
as  he  had  guessed,  not  far  from  the  point 
where  it  enters  the  Yazoo,  at  Greenwood. 
A  little  study  of  the  map  showed  Phil  that 
if  this  were  true,  he  might  expect  to  reach 
u 


igo    THE   LAST   OF  THE   FLATBOATS 

Vicksburg  within  four  or  five  days,  which 
in  fact  is  what  happened,  not  on  the  fourth 
or  fifth,  but  on  the  sixth  day  thereafter,  early 
in  the  morning. 

In  the  mean  time  the  crew  and  their 
guests  had  eaten  up  pretty  nearly  all  the 
boat's  store  of  provisions,  and  The  Last  of 
the  Flatboats  had  been  stripped  of  her 
unsightly  swaddling-cloth,  the  tarpaulin. 
Phil  tied  her  up  at  the  landing  near  the  his- 
toric town  as  proudly  as  if  she  had  not  run 
away,  and  misbehaved  as  she  had  done. 

"  She  has  only  been  showing  us  some  of 
the  wonders  of  the  Wonderful  River,  that 
we  should  never  otherwise  have  known  any- 
thing about,"  he  said. 

But  this  is  going  far  ahead  of  my  story. 
The  boys  and  their  boat  were  still  in  the 
Yazoo,  nearly  a  week's  journey  above  Vicks- 
burg.    So  let  us  return  to  them. 


CHAPTER   XXX 


A    YAZOO    AFTERNOON 


There  were  no  difficulties  of  any  conse- 
quence to  contend  with  after  The  Last  of  the 
Flatboats  entered  the  Yazoo.  The  boys' 
guests  were  well  now,  and  joined  them  in 
their  long  talks  on  deck.  These  talks 
covered  every  conceivable  subject,  and  the 
planter,  who  proved  himself  to  be  an 
unusually  well-informed  man,  added  not  a 
little  to  their  interest. 

"  I  say,  Ed,"  said  Phil  one  day,  holding 
up  one  of  his  newspapers,  "you  were  all 
wrong  about  the  crops." 

"  How  do  you  mean,  Phil  ?  " 

"Why,  you  put  corn  first,  as  the  most 
valuable  crop  produced  in  this  country." 

"  Well,  isn't  it  ?  " 

"  Not  if  this  newspaper  writer  knows  his 
business  and  tells  the  truth." 

"  Why,  what  does  he  say  ? "  asked  Ed, 
with  an  interest  he  had  not  at  first  shown  in 
Phil's  criticism. 

291 


292    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

"  He  says  that  in  Missouri,  which  I  take 
to  be  one  of  the  great  corn-growing  states  —  " 

"It  is  all  that/'  answered  Ed.  "What 
about  it  ? " 

"Why,  he  says  that  in  Missouri  the  eggs 
and  spring  chickens  produced  by  what  he 
calls  c  the  great  American  hen '  sell  every 
year  for  more  money  than  all  the  corn, 
wheat,  oats,  and  hay  raised  in  the  state, 
twice  over.  And  he  gives  the  figures  for 
it  too." 

"That  is  surprising,"  said  Ed,  "but  it  is 
very  probably  true.  The  trouble  is  that  we 
have  no  trustworthy  statistics  on  the  sub- 
ject. No  ordinary  farmer  keeps  any  account 
of  his  crops  of  that  kind.  Not  one  farmer 
in  a  hundred  could  tell  you  at  the  end  of  a 
year  how  many  dozens  of  eggs  or  how  many 
pairs  of  chickens  he  had  sold.  Still  less 
could  he  tell  you  how  many  of  either  his 
family  had  eaten.  So  it  must  all  be  guess- 
work about  such  crops,  while  practically 
every  bushel  of  wheat,  corn,  and  oats  and 
every  bale  of  cotton  or  hay,  and  every  pound 
of  tobacco  is  carefully  set  down  in  official 
records." 

"That  reminds  me,"  said  Irv,  "of  the 
remark  a  farmer  once  made   to   me,  when 


A   YAZOO   AFTERNOON         293 

deploring  the  poverty  of  himself  and  his 
class." 

"  What  was  it  ?  "  asked  Will. 

"  Why,  he  said  that  lots  of  men  in  the 
cities  got  two  or  three  thousand  dollars  a 
year  for  their  work,  while  he  never  yet  had 
got  over  five  hundred  dollars  for  his.  I 
questioned  him  a  little,  and  found  that  he 
didn't  take  any  account  of  his  house  rent  and 
fuel  free,  or  of  all  the  farm  produce  that  his 
family  ate.  He  thought  the  few  hundred 
dollars  he  had  to  the  good  at  the  end  of  the 
year,  after  paying  for  his  groceries  and  dry 
goods,  was  all  he  got  for  his  labor." 

"  Speaking  of  these  unconsidered  crops," 
said  the  planter,  "  I  fancy  it  would  astonish 
us  if  we  could  have  the  figures  on  them.  It 
is  said,  for  example,  that  more  than  a  million 
turkeys  are  eaten  in  New  York  City  alone 
every  winter.  Now,  if  we  count  all  the 
other  great  cities  and  all  the  little  ones,  and 
all  the  towns  and  all  the  country  homes 
where  turkeys  are  eaten,  it  will  be  very  hard 
to  guess  how  many  millions  of  these  fowls 
are  raised  and  sold  and  eaten  in  this  country 
every  year." 

"  It's  hard  on  the  turkeys,"  moralized 
Will  Moreraud. 


294    THE   LAST    OF   THE    FLATBOATS 

"Well,  I  don't  know,"  answered  Phil. 
"  I  remember  reading  a  story  by  James  K. 
Paulding  called  c  A  Reverie  in  the  Woods/ 
He  tells  how  he  fell  half  asleep  and  heard  all 
the  animals  and  birds  and  fishes  holding  a 
sort  of  congress  to  denounce  man  for  his 
cruelties  to  them.  After  a  while  the  earth- 
worm got  so  excited  over  the  matter  that  he 
wriggled  himself  into  the  brook.  There- 
upon the  trout,  who  had  also  been  one 
of  the  complainants  against  man's  cruelty, 
snapped  up  the  worm,  and  swallowed  him. 
Seeing  this,  the  cat  grabbed  the  trout,  and 
the  fox  caught  the  cat,  and  the  eagle  caught 
the  fox,  and  the  hawk  made  luncheon  on  the 
dove,  and  so  on  through  the  whole  list.  I 
imagine  that  that  is  nature's  way.  Every- 
thing that  lives,  lives  at  the  expense  of 
something  else  that  lives.  It  is  all  a  strug- 
gle for  existence,  with  the  survival  of  the 
fittest  as  the  outcome.  And  as  a  man,  or 
even  a  commonplace  boy  like  me,  is  fitter  to 
live  than  a  turkey,  I  think  the  slaughter  of 
those  innocents  is  all  right  enough." 

"  You  are  entirely  right,  Phil,"  said  Ed. 
"  A  pound  of  boy  is  certainly  worth  fifty  or 
fifty  thousand  pounds  of  turkey,  because 
one  boy  can  do  more  for  the  world  than  all 


A   YAZOO    AFTERNOON  295 

the  turkeys  that  were  ever  hatched.  And 
when  a  boy  eats  turkey  he  converts  it  into 
boy,  and  it  helps  him  to  grow  into  a  man." 

"  Precisely  ! "  said  Irv  Strong.  "  It 
cost  the  worthless  lives  of  many  pigs,  tur- 
keys, chickens,  sheep,  and  cattle  to  make 
George  Washington.  But  surely  one 
George  Washington  was  worth  more  than 
all  the  pigs,  turkeys,  chickens,  sheep,  and 
beef-cattle  that  were  killed  in  all  this  coun- 
try between  the  day  he  was  born  and  the  day 
of  his  death.  But  pardon  us,"  added  Irv, 
turning  to  the  planter,  "  you  were  going  to 
say  something  more  when  we  interrupted." 

"It  was  nothing  of  any  consequence," 
answered  their  guest,  "  and  your  little  dis- 
cussion has  interested  me  more  than  any- 
thing I  had  thought  of  saying.  But  I  was 
going  to  say  that  according  to  a  New  York 
newspaper's  careful  calculation,  that  city  pays 
more  than  a  million  dollars  every  spring  for 
white  flowers  for  Easter  decorations  alone, 
while  its  expenditures  for  flowers  during  the 
rest  of  the  year  is  estimated  at  not  less  than 
five  millions  more.  Then  there  is  the  pea- 
nut crop.  Who  ever  thinks  of  it  ?  Who 
thinks  of  peanuts  in  any  serious  way  ?  Yet 
it  was  the  peanut  crop  that  saved  the  people 


296    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

of  tidewater  Virginia  and  North  Carolina 
from  actual  starvation  during  the  first  few 
years  after  the  Civil  War.  And  every  year 
that  crop  amounts  to  more  than  two  and  a 
half  million  bushels  !  " 

"  What  luck  for  the  circuses  !  "  exclaimed 
Will  Moreraud. 

"  But  the  circuses  do  not  furnish  the 
chief  market  for  peanuts/'  said  Irv,  who 
was  somewhat  "  up  "  on  these  things. 

"  Where  are  they  consumed,  then  ?  "  asked 
Will. 

"  Well,  the  greater  part  of  them  are  used 
in  the  manufacture  of  c  pure '  Italian  or 
French  olive  oil  —  most  of  it  c  warranted 
sublime/  "  said  Irv. 

"  Are  we  a  nation  of  swindlers,  then  ? " 
asked  Phil,  whose  courage  was  always  of- 
fended by  any  suggestion  of  untruth  or 
hypocrisy  or  dishonesty. 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Irv,  "  how  to  draw 
the  line  there.  The  men  who  make  olive 
oil  out  of  peanuts  stoutly  contend  that  their 
olive  oil  is  really  better,  more  wholesome, 
and  more  palatable  than  that  made  from 
olives." 

"  Why  don't  they  call  it  peanut  oil,  then, 
and    advertise  it   as    better   than    olive    oil, 


A   YAZOO   AFTERNOON  297 

and  take  the  consequences  ? "  asked  upright, 
downright,  bravely  honest  Phil. 

"  Men  in  trade  are  not  always  so  scrupulous 
about  honesty  and  truthfulness  as  you  are, 
Phil,"  said  Ed.  "  But  sometimes  —  they 
excuse  their  falsehoods  on  the  ground  —  " 

"  There  isn't  any  excuse  possible  for  not 
telling  the  truth,"  said  Phil.  "Men  who 
tell  lies  in  their  business  are  swindlers,  and 
that's  the  end  of  the  matter.  If  they  are 
making  a  better  article  than  the  imported 
one,  they  ought  to  say  so,  and  people  would 
find  it  out  quickly  enough.  When  they 
offer  their  goods  as  something  quite  different 
from  what  they  really  are,  they  are  telling 
lies,  I  say,  and  I,  for  one,  have  no  respect 
for  a  liar." 

"  You  are  right,  Phil,  of  course,"  said  Ed. 
"  But  there  is  a  world  of  that  sort  of  thing 
done.  The  potteries  in  New  Jersey,  I  am 
told,  mark  their  finer  wares  with  European 
brands,  and  they  contend  that  if  they  did 
not  do  it  they  could  not  sell  their  goods." 

"  A  more  interesting  illustration,"  said 
the  planter,  "  is  found  in  the  matter  of 
cheeses.  Cheese,  as  at  first  produced,  is  the 
same  the  world  over.  But  cheese  that  is  set 
to  c  ripen '  in  the  caves  of  Roquefort  is  one 


298    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

thing,  cheese  ripened  at  Camembert  is  an- 
other, and  so  on  through  the  list.  Now  of 
late  years  it  has  been  discovered  that  the 
differences  between  these  several  kinds  of 
cheese  are  due  solely  to  microbes.  There  is 
one  sort  of  microbe  at  Roquefort,  another  at 
Brie,  and  so  on.  Now  American  cheese- 
makers  found  this  out  some  years  ago,  and 
decided  that  they  could  make  any  sort  of 
cheese  they  pleased  in  this  country.  So 
they  took  the  several  kinds  of  imported 
cheeses,  selected  the  best  samples  of  each, 
and  set  to  work  to  cultivate  their  microbes. 
By  introducing  the  microbes  of  Roquefort 
into  their  cheeses  they  made  Roquefort 
cheeses  of  them.  By  inoculating  them  with 
the  Brie  microbe,  or  the  Camembert  microbe, 
or  the  Stilton  or  Gruyere  microbe,  they  con- 
verted their  simple  American  cheeses  into 
all  these  choice  varieties.  And  it  is  asserted 
by  experts  that  these  American  imitations, 
or  some  of  them  at  any  rate,  are  actually 
superior  to  the  imported  cheeses,  besides 
being  much  more  uniform  in  quality." 

"  That's  all  right,"  said  Phil.  "  But  why 
not  tell  the  truth  about  it  ?  Surely,  if  their 
cheeses  are  better  than  those  made  abroad, 
they   can   trust  the   good  judges   of  cheese 


A   YAZOO    AFTERNOON  299 

to  find  out  the  fact  and  declare  it.  And 
when  that  fact  became  known  they  could 
sell  their  cheese  for  a  higher  price  than  that 
of  the  imported  article,  on  the  simple  ground 
of  its  superiority.  How  I  do  hate  shams 
and  frauds  and  lies  —  and  especially  liars!" 

"What  bothers  me,"  drawled  Irv,  "is  that 
I've  been  eating  microbes  all  my  life  with- 
out knowing  it.  I  here  and  now  register 
a  solemn  vow  that  I'll  never  again  eat  a 
piece  of  cheese  —  unless  I  want  to." 

"  Oh,  the  microbes  are  all  right,"  said 
Ed,  "provided  they  are  of  the  right  sort. 
There  are  some  microbes  that  kill  us,  and 
others  that  we  couldn't  live  without.  There 
are  still  others,  like  those  in  cheese,  that  do 
us  neither  good  nor  harm,  except  that  they 
make  our  food  more  palatable.  For  that 
matter  the  yeast  germ  is  a  microbe,  and  it 
is  that  alone  that  makes  our  bread  light. 
Surely  we  can't  quit  eating  light  bread  and 
take  to  heavy  baked  dough  instead,  because 
light  bread  is  made  light  by  the  presence  of 
some  hundreds  of  millions  of  living  germs  in 
every  loaf  of  it  while  it  is  in  the  dough  state." 

"  Coming  back  to  the  question  of  crops," 
said  the  planter,  "  does  it  occur  to  you  that 
there  would   be  no  possibility  of  prosperity 


3oo    THE    LAST    OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

in  this  country  but  for  the  absolute  freedom 
of  traffic  between  the  states  ? " 

"  Would  you  kindly  explain  ?  "  said  Ed. 

"  Certainly.  The  farmers  of  New  York 
and  New  Jersey  used  to  grow  all  the  wheat, 
and  all  the  beef,  mutton,  and  pork  that  were 
eaten  in  the  great  city,  and  they  made  a 
good  living  by  doing  it.  But  the  time  came 
when  the  western  states  could  raise  wheat 
and  beef  and  all  the  rest  of  it  much  more 
cheaply  than  any  eastern  farmer  could. 
This  threatened  to  drive  the  New  York 
and  New  Jersey  farmers  out  of  business, 
and  naturally,  if  they  could,  they  would 
have  made  their  legislators  pass  laws  to 
exclude  this  western  wheat  and  meat  from 
competition  with  their  crops.  This  would 
have  hurt  the  western  farmer;  for  what 
would  in  that  case  have  happened  in  New 
York  would  have  happened  in  all  the  other 
eastern  states.  But  it  would  have  hurt  the 
people  of  the  great  cities  —  and  indeed  all 
the  people  in  the  country  still  more.  It 
would  have  made  the  city  people's  food  cost 
them  two  or  three  times  as  much  as  before. 
That  would  have  compelled  them  to  charge 
more  for  their  manufactured  products  and 
for   their  work  in   carrying   on   the   foreign 


A   YAZOO   AFTERNOON  301 

commerce  of  the  country.  That  would 
have  crippled  commerce, — which  lives  upon 
exceedingly  small  margins  of  profit,  —  and 
the  prosperity  of  the  country  would  have 
been  ruined.  It  was  to  prevent  that  sort 
of  thing  that  our  national  government  was 
formed,  with  a  constitution  which  forbade 
any  state  to  interfere  with  commerce  be- 
tween the  states/' 

"  What  became  of  the  New  York  farmer, 
then  ?  "  asked  Irv. 

"When  he  found  that  he  couldn't  raise 
wheat,  corn,  etc.,  as  cheaply  as  the  western 
farmer  could  sell  them  in  New  York,  he  quit 
raising  those  things  and  produced  things  that 
paid  him  instead." 

"  What  sort  of  things  ?  " 

"  Fruits,  poultry,  milk,  butter,  eggs,  cheese, 
vegetables,  buckwheat,  honey,  etc.,  and  in 
producing  these  the  New  York  farmer  grew 
richer  than  ever.  Since  New  York  quit 
raising  on  any  considerable  scale  the  things 
that  we  commonly  think  of  as  farm  products, 
that  state  has  become  the  richest  in  the 
country  in  the  value  of  its  agricultural  pro- 
duction, simply  because  the  New  York 
farmer  raises  only  those  things  for  which 
there  is  a  market  almost  at  his  front  gate." 


302    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

"That  is  very  interesting,"  said  Will. 
"  But  how  is  it  that  the  far  West  can  furnish 
New  York  and  Philadelphia  and  the  rest 
of  the  eastern  cities  with  bread  and  meat 
cheaper  than  the  farmers  near  those  cities 
can  sell  the  same  things  ? " 

"The  value  of  land,"  said  the  planter, 
"  has  much  to  do  with  it.  The  value  of  a 
farmer's  land  is  his  investment,  and  first  of 
all,  he  must  earn  interest  on  that." 

"  Pardon  me,"  said  Ed,  "  but  that,  it  seems 
to  me,  is  a  very  small  factor.  The  value  of 
good  farming  lands  in  the  East  is  not  very 
different  from  that  of  similar  lands  in  Ohio, 
Indiana,  Illinois,  and  the  other  great  farming 
states  of  the  West." 

"  What  is  the  key  to  the  mystery,  then  ?  " 
asked  Irv. 

"  Transportation,"  answered  Ed.  "  The 
western  farm  lands,  with  an  equal  amount 
of  labor,  produce  more  wheat,  corn,  pork, 
and  the  like,  than  eastern  lands  do,  and  it 
costs  next  to  nothing  to  carry  their  wheat, 
corn,  pork,  etc.,  to  the  East." 

"  What  does  it  cost  ?  "  asked  Will. 

"  Well,  I  see  that  the  rate  is  now  less  than 
three  mills  per  ton  per  mile.  At  three  mills 
per  ton  per  mile,  ten  barrels,  or  a  ton,  of  flour 


A   YAZOO    AFTERNOON  303 

could  be  carried  from  Chicago  to  New  York 
for  three  dollars,  or  thirty  cents  a  barrel. 
Even  at  half  a  cent  per  ton  per  mile  it  would 
cost  only  fifty  cents." 

"  While  the  railroads  are  engaged  in  trans- 
porting that  flour  to  the  hungry  New  Yorkers 
at  that  exceedingly  reasonable  rate/'  said  Irv, 
slowly  rising  to  his  feet,  "  it  is  my  duty  to 
go  below  and  convert  a  few  insignificant 
pounds  of  the  flour  on  board  into  a  pan  of 
biscuit,  while  you,  Ed,  fry  some  salt  pork, 
the  only  meat  we  have  left,  and  heat  up  a 
can  or  two  of  tomatoes. " 

This  ended  the  long  chat,  for  besides  the 
preparation  of  supper  there  was  much  else 
to  do.  There  were  the  lights  to  be  hung 
in  their  places,  and  more  occupying  still, 
there  was  the  difficult  task  of  tying  up  the 
boat  for  the  night.  For  experience  had 
taught  Phil  caution,  and  he  had  decided  that 
until  The  Last  of  the  Flatboats  should  again 
float  upon  the  broad  reaches  of  the  Missis- 
sippi, she  should  be  securely  moored  to  two 
trees  during  the  hours  of  darkness.  With  the 
Yazoo  ten  feet  above  its  banks,  it  would  have 
been  very  easy  indeed  for  the  flatboat  to 
drift  out  of  the  river  into  the  fields  and 
woodlands.  And  Phil  had  had  all  the  ex- 
perience he  wanted  of  such  wanderings. 


CHAPTER  XXXI 


AN    OFFER    OF    HELP 


On  the  day  before  they  reached  Vicks- 
burg,  the  planter  whose  family  had  been 
rescued  was  able  to  have  a  long  conversa- 
tion with  Phil.  His  first  disposition  had 
been  to  recognize  Irv  as  the  master  spirit  of 
the  crew,  because  of  his  controlling  activity 
in  the  matter  of  restoring  the  starved  party 
to  life  and  health,  but  he  was  quickly 
instructed  otherwise  by  Irving  himself. 

He  explained  to  Phil  just  who  and  what 
he  was. 

"  I  have  lost  a  great  deal,  of  course,  by 
this  overflow,  but  fortunately  the  bulk  of 
my  cotton  crop  was  already  shipped  before 
the  flood  came,  so  that  that  is  safe.  More- 
over, I  am  not  altogether  dependent  upon 
my  planting  operations.  In  short,  —  you 
will  understand  that  I  say  this  by  way  of 
explanation  and  not  otherwise,  —  I  am  a 
fairly  well-to-do  man,  —  I  may  even  say  a 
304 


AN   OFFER  OF   HELP  305 

very  well-to-do  man,  —  independently  of  my 
planting  operations." 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  that,"  said  Phil, 
"because  it  has  troubled  me  a  good  deal, 
especially  as  I  have  looked  at  Baby  and  the 
other  children.  I  have  wondered  what  was 
to  become  of  them,  and  in  what  way  we 
boys  might  best  help  you  and  them  over 
the  bridge." 

"  I  am  glad  you  said  that,"  the  planter 
responded.  "  That  gives  me  the  opportu- 
nity I  am  seeking.  In  the  same  spirit  in 
which  you  have  been  thinking  of  helping 
me,  I  want  you  to  let  me  help  you  and  your 
comrades.  I  don't  know  anything  of  the 
circumstances  of  the  young  men  who  com- 
pose this  crew,  yourself  or  the  others ;  but 
I  assume  that  if  your  circumstances  were 
particularly  comfortable,  you  would  hardly 
be  engaged  in  the  not  very  profitable  busi- 
ness of  running  a  flatboat.  At  your  ages, 
you  would  more  probably  be  in  school." 

"So  we  are,"  said  Phil;  "we  are  none  of 
us  particularly  well-to-do,  but  we  are  able  to 
stay  at  home  and  go  to  school.  This  trip  is 
a  kind  of  a  lark  —  or  partly  that  and  partly 
a  thing  done  to  restore  my  brother's  health ; 
but  we  are  obliged  to  make  it  pay  its  own 

X 


3o6    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

way,  anyhow,  because  we  could  not  afford 
the  trip  otherwise.  Of  course,  we  are  out 
of  school  for.  the  time  being,  that  is  to  say, 
for  a  few  months,  but  we  all  expect  to  make 
that  up.  As  to  college,  I  don't  know. 
Probably  not  many  of  us  will  ever  be  able 
to  afford  that." 

"  That,  then,  is  exactly  what  I  want  to 
come  to,"  said  the  gentleman.  "You  are 
obviously  boys  of  good  parentage.  I  can- 
not offer  to  pay  you  for  the  great  service 
you  have  done  to  me  and  mine  —  no,  no ; 
don't  interrupt  me  now;  let  me  say  this 
out.  I  should  not  think  of  insulting  you 
in  any  such  way  as  that;  but  why  should 
you  not  let  me  contribute  out  of  the  abun- 
dance that  I  still  possess  to  the  expense  of  a 
college  course  for  all  five  of  you  very  bright 
young  fellows  ?  Believe  me,  nothing  in  the 
world  could  give  me  a  greater  gratification 
than  to  do  this.  You  have  rescued  me  and 
mine  from  a  fate  so  terrible  that  I  shudder 
to  think  of  it  even  now.  Let  me  in  my 
turn  help  a  little  to  advance  your  interests 
in  life." 

Phil  thought  for  a  considerable  time 
before  he  replied.  Not  that  he  had  any 
notion    of  accepting   the   offer   thus    made, 


AN   OFFER   OF    HELP  307 

but  that  he  did  not  want,  in  rejecting  it, 
to  hurt  the  feelings  of  a  man  so  generous, 
and  one  who  had  made  the  offer  with  so 
much  delicacy.     At  last  the  boy  said  :  — 

"  Believe  me,  sir,  I  appreciate,  and  all  my 
comrades  will  when  I  tell  them  of  it,  the 
good  feeling  and  the  generosity  that  have 
dictated  your  offer,  but  we  could  not  on  any 
account  accept  it.  I  am  sure  that  in  this  I 
speak  for  all.  I  believe  that  any  boy  in  this 
country  who  really  wants  an  education  can 
get  it,  if  he  chooses  to  work  hard  enough 
and  live  plainly  enough.  My  brother  has 
not  been  able  to  go  to  school  much  at  any 
time  in  his  life,  because  of  his  ill-health,  and 
yet  he  is  much  the  best  educated  one  among 
us,  and  if  he  lives,  he  will  be  reckoned  a 
well-educated  man,  even  among  men  who 
are  college  graduates.  As  for  the  rest  of 
us,  we  can  get  a  college  education,  as  I  said, 
if  we  choose  to  work  hard  enough  and  live 
hard  enough.  If  we  don't  choose  to  do 
that,  why,  we  must  go  without.  But  we 
thank  you  all  the  same,  and  I  want  you  to 
know  that  we  recognize  the  generosity  of 
your  offer,  though  we  cannot  accept  it. 
Now,  please  don't  let's  talk  of  that  any 
more,  because  it  isn't  pleasant  to  refuse  a 


3o8    THE    LAST    OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

request  such  as  yours ;  for  I  take  it  from 
your  manner  and  tone  that  you  mean  it 
as  a  request  rather  than  as  an  offer  of 
aid." 

With  that,  Phil  walked  away,  and  there 
was  naturally  no  more  to  be  said.  But  an 
hour  later  the  gentleman,  who  was  still  feeble 
from  his  late  exposure  and  suffering,  asked 
Phil  again  to  sit  down  by  him.  Then  he 
said :  — 

"  I  am  not  going  to  reopen  the  ques- 
tion that  we  discussed  a  while  ago,  because 
I  understand  and  honor  your  decision  with 
regard  to  it.  But  there  is  another  little 
service  that  I  am  in  position  to  render 
you,  and  that  I  might  render  to  anybody 
with  whom  I  came  into  pleasant  contact. 
My  name  counts  for  a  good  deal  with  my 
commission  merchant  in  New  Orleans  ;  for 
how  much  it  counts,  it  would  not  be  quite 
modest  for  me  to  say  ;  but,  at  any  rate,  I 
want  to  give  you  a  letter  to  him,  if  you  will 
allow  me.  When  you  get  there,  you  will 
wish  to  sell  your  cargo,  and  of  course  you 
will  be  surrounded  by  buyers,  but  most  of 
them  will  be  disposed  to  take  advantage  of 
your  youth  and  of  your  inexperience  in  the 
market.      I    cannot    imagine   how,   in   their 


AN   OFFER   OF    HELP  309 

hands,  you  can  escape  the  loss  of  a  consid- 
erable part  of  the  value  of  what  you  have 
to  sell.  Now  the  commission  merchant  to 
whom  I  wish  to  give  you  a  letter  is  a  man 
of  the  very  highest  integrity,  besides  being 
my  personal  friend  and  my  agent  in  busi- 
ness. I  suggest  that  you  place  the  whole 
matter  of  the  sale  of  your  boat  and  cargo  in 
his  hands,  and  I  am  confident  that  the  dif- 
ference in  the  results  will  be  many  hundreds 
of  dollars  in  your  favor.  This  is,  as  I  said, 
a  service  that  I  might  render  even  to  a  cas- 
ual acquaintance.  Surely,  you  will  not  deny 
me  the  privilege  of  rendering  it  to  a  group 
of  young  men  who  have  done  for  me  what 
you  boys  have." 

Phil  rose  and  stood  before  him  em- 
barrassed. 

"  I  suppose,"  he  said,  <c  I  ought  to  con- 
sult my  comrades  before  accepting  even  this 
favor  at  your  hands,  but  I  shan't  do  any- 
thing of  the  kind.  I  understand  what  you 
feel  and  what  you  mean,  and  if  you  won't 
ask  anything  of  your  commission  merchant 
except  that  he  shall  sell  us  out  on  his  usual 
terms,  I  shall  frankly  be  very  much  obliged 
to  you  for  the  letter  you  offer ;  for  it  has 
really  been  a  source  of  a  good  deal  of  anxi- 


3io 


THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 


ety  to  me,  this  thing  of  how  to  sell  out 
when  we  get  there." 

It  was  so  arranged;  and  as  the  gentleman 
and  his  family  were  to  quit  the  boat  at 
Vicksburg,  the  letter  was  written  that  day. 

At  Vicksburg  the  boys  offered  the  hospi- 
tality of  their  boat  to  their  guests  until  such 
time  as  proper  clothing  could  be  provided 
for  them,  their  condition  of  destitution  being 
one  in  which  it  was  impossible  for  them  to 
think  of  going  ashore.  This  offer  was  frankly 
accepted,  and  as  the  boys  were  themselves  in 
sad  need  of  supplies,  the  delay  of  two  or 
three  days  was  not  only  of  no  consequence 
to  them,  but  it  introduced  a  new  element  of 
life  on  board  The  Last  of  the  Flatboats.  The 
lady  sent  into  the  town  for  dressmakers  and 
seamstresses  in  such  numbers  as  might 
enable  her  quickly  to  equip  herself  and  the 
children  for  a  reappearance  among  civilized 
human  beings.  The  cabin  became  a  work- 
room, and  two  sewing-machines  were  in- 
stalled even  upon  the  deck.  It  looked  a 
little  odd,  but,  as  Irv  Strong  put  it,  "  it's 
only  another  incident  in  a  voyage  that  began 
with  Jim  Hughes  and  promises  to  end  we 
do  not  know  with  what.  Anyhow,  we've 
had  good   luck   on    the   whole,  and  if  we 


AN   OFFER   OF    HELP  311 

don't  come  out  ahead  now,  it'll  probably  be 
our  own  fault." 

This  was  the  feeling  of  all  the  boys.  They 
had  the  open  Mississippi  before  them  for 
the  brief  remainder  of  their  journey.  The 
river  was  still  enormously  full,  of  course,  but 
it  was  falling  now,  and  below  Vicksburg  it 
had  been  kept  well  within  the  levees,  so  that 
there  was  no  further  probability  of  any  cross- 
country excursions  on  the  part  of  The  Last 
of  the  Flatboats.  They  had  nothing  to  do, 
apparently,  but  to  cast  the  boat  loose  and 
let  her  float  the  rest  of  the  way  upon  placid 
waters.  But  this  again  is  getting  ahead  of 
my  story.  The  boat  is  still  tied  to  the  bank 
at  Vicksburg.     Let  us  return  to  her. 


CHAPTER   XXXII 

PUBLICITY 

As  soon  as  the  first  necessities  of  their 
business  were  provided  for  at  Vicksburg, 
Phil  wandered  off  in  search  of  newspapers. 
He  had  become  interested  in  many  things 
through  his  newspaper  reading  in  connec- 
tion with  Jim  Hughes,  and  concerning 
many  matters  he  was  curious  to  know  the 
outcome.  So  he  sought  not  only  for  the 
latest  newspapers,  and  not  chiefly  for  them, 
but  rather  for  back  numbers  covering  the 
period  during  which  The  Last  of  the  Flat- 
boats  had  been  wandering  in  the  woods.  He 
secured  a  lot  of  them,  some  of  them  from 
New  York,  some  from  Chicago,  some  from 
St.  Louis,  and  some  from  other  cities. 

To  his  astonishment,  when  he  opened  the 
earliest  of  them,  —  those  that  had  been  pub- 
lished soon  after  the  affair  at  Memphis,  — 
he  found  them  filled  with  portraits  of  him- 
self and  of  his  companions,  with  pictures  of 
The  Last  of  the  Flatboats^  and  even  with 
312 


PUBLICITY  313 


interviews,  of  which  neither  he  nor  Irv 
Strong,  who  was  the  other  one  chiefly 
quoted,  had  any  recollection.  Yet  when 
they  read  the  words  quoted  from  their  lips, 
they  remembered  that  these  things  were  sub- 
stantially what  they  had  said  to  innocent- 
looking  persons  not  at  all  known  to  them  as 
newspaper  reporters,  who  had  quite  casu- 
ally conversed  with  them  at  Memphis. 
Neither  had  either  of  them  posed  for  a  por- 
trait, and  yet  here  were  pictures  of  them, 
ranging  all  the  way  from  perfect  likenesses 
to  absolute  caricatures,  freely  exploited. 

Phil  and  Irv  were  so  curious  about  this 
matter  that  they  asked  everybody  who  came 
on  board  for  an  explanation.  Finally,  one 
young  man,  who  had  come  to  them  with 
an  inquiry  as  to  the  price  at  which  they 
would  be  willing  to  sell  out  the  boat  and 
cargo  at  Vicksburg  instead  of  going  on  to 
New  Orleans,  smiled  gently  and  said,  in 
reply  to  Phil's   questions :  — 

"  Well,  perhaps  you  don't  always  recog- 
nize a  reporter  when*  you  see  him.  Some- 
times he  may  come  to  you  to  talk  about 
quite  other  things  than  those  that  he  really 
wants  you  to  tell  him  about.  Sometimes 
your  talk  will  prove  to  be  exactly  what  he 


3i4    THE   LAST    OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

wants  to  interest  his  readers  with,  and  as  a 
reporter  usually  has  a  pretty  accurate  mem- 
ory, he  is  able  to  reproduce  all  that  you  say 
so  nearly  as  you  said  it,  that  you  can't  your- 
self afterward  discover  any  flaw  in  his  re- 
port. Sometimes,  too,  the  reporter  happens 
to  be  an  artist  sent  to  get  a  picture  of  you. 
He  may  have  a  kodak  concealed  under  his 
vest,  but  usually  that  does  not  work.  It  is 
clumsy,  you  know,  and  generally  unsatisfac- 
tory. It  is  a  good  deal  easier  for  a  news- 
paper artist  who  knows  his  business  to  talk 
to  you  about  turnips,  or  Grover  Cleveland, 
or  Christian  Science,  or  the  tariff,  or  any  of 
those  things  that  people  always  talk  about, 
and  while  you  think  him  interested  in  the 
expression  of  your  views,  make  a  sketch 
of  you  on  his  thumb  nail  or  on  his  cuff, 
which  he  can  reproduce  at  the  office  for 
purposes  of  print.  By  the  way,  have  you 
talked  with  any  reporters  since  you  arrived 
at  Vicksburg  ? " 

"  No,"  answered  Phil;  "none  of  them 
have  come  aboard." 

cc  Are  you  sure  of  that  ?  " 

"  Well,  yes ;  I  haven't  seen  a  single  man 
from  the  press." 

"  Well,  if  any  of  the  papers  should  happen 


PUBLICITY  315 


to  c  get  on  '  to  the  fact  that  you  are  here,  and 
print  something  about  it,  I  will  send  you 
copies  in  the  morning." 

The  next  morning  the  promised  copies 
came.  One  of  them  contained  not  only  a 
very  excellent  portrait  of  Phil  and  a  group 
picture  of  the  crew,  but  also  an  almost  exact 
reproduction  of  the  conversation  given  above. 

A  new  light  dawned  upon  Phil's  mind. 

"  After  all,  that  fellow  was  a  reporter  and 
a  very  clever  one.  He  didn't  want  to  buy 
the  boat  or  its  cargo  or  anything  else.  But 
I  wonder  if  he  was  an  artist  also.  If  not, 
who  made  those  pictures  ?  " 

"  Well,"  said  Irv,  "  you  remember  there 
was  a  young  woman  who  came  on  board  about 
the  same  time  that  he  did.  She  was  very 
much  interested  in  Baby,  but  I  noticed  that 
she  went  all  over  the  boat,  and  when  you  and 
that  young  fellow  were  talking,  she  sat  down 
on  the  anchor,  there,  and  seemed  to  be  writ- 
ing a  letter  on  a  pad.  Just  then,  as  I  re- 
member, we  fellows  were  gathered  around 
the  new  lantern  you  had  just  bought  and 
examining  it  —  and,  by  the  way,  here's  the 
lantern  in  the  group  picture." 

All  this  was  a  revelation  to  Phil,  and  it 
interested  him  mightily.     As  for  Irv  Strong, 


3i6    THE    LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

he  was  so  interested  that  he  made  up  his 
mind  to  beard  the  lion  in  his  den.  He 
went  to  the  office  of  one  of  the  newspapers 
and  asked  to  see  its  editor.  But  out  of  him 
he  got  no  satisfaction  whatever.  The  editor 
hadn't  the  slightest  idea  where  the  interviews 
or  the  pictures  had  come  from. 

"All  that,"  he  said,  "is  managed  by  our 
news  department.  I  never  know  what  they 
are  going  to  do.  I  judge  them  only  by 
results.  But  I  do  not  mind  saying  to  you 
that  there  would  have  been  several  peremp- 
tory discharges  in  this  office  if  this  paper  had 
not  had  a  good  picture  of  The  Last  of  the 
Flatboatsy  a  portrait  of  your  interesting 
young  captain  and  other  pictures  of  human 
interest  tending  to  illustrate  the  arrival  of 
this  boat  at  our  landing,  although  we  rarely 
print  pictures  of  any  kind  in  our  paper. 
This  is  an  exceptional  case.  And  I  think 
that  the  chief  of  our  news  department  would 
have  had  an  uncomfortable  quarter  of  an 
hour  if  he  and  his  subordinates  had  failed  to 
secure  a  talk  with  persons  so  interesting  as 
those  who  captured  Jim  Hughes,  as  he  is 
called,  and  secured  the  arrest  of  the  others 
of  that  bank  burglar's  gang,  and  afterward 
rescued  one  of  the  most  distinguished  citi- 


PUBLICITY  317 


zens  of  Mississippi  and  his  family  from  death 
by  starvation.  Really,  you  must  excuse  me 
from  undertaking  the  task  of  telling  you 
how  our  boys  do  these  things.  It  is  not 
my  business  to  know,  and  I  have  a  great 
many  other  things  to  do.  It  is  their  busi- 
ness to  get  the  news.  For  that  they  are 
responsible,  and  to  that  end  they  have  con- 
trol of  adequate  means.  Oh,  by  the  way, 
that  suggests  to  me  a  good  editorial  that 
ought  to  be  written  right  now.  Perhaps 
you  will  be  interested  to  read  it  in  to-mor- 
row morning's  paper.  I  am  just  going  to 
write  it." 

As  it  was  now  midnight,  Irv  was  be- 
wildered. How  in  the  world  was  he  to  read 
in  the  next  morning's  paper  an  editorial  that 
had,  at  this  hour,  just  occurred  to  the  man 
who  was  yet  to  write  it  ?  How  was  it  to  be 
written,  set  up  in  type,  and  printed  before 
that  early  hour  when  the  newspaper  must  be 
on  sale  ? 

The  editor  knew,  if  Irv  did  not.  He 
knew  that  the  hour  of  midnight  sees  the 
birth  of  many  of  the  ablest  and  most  influen- 
tial newspaper  utterances  of  our  time.  Irv's 
curious  questions  had  suggested  to  him  a 
little  essay  upon  the  value  of  Publicity,  and 


3i 8    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

it  was  upon  that  theme  that  he  wrote.  He 
showed,  with  what  Irv  and  Phil  regarded  as 
an  extraordinary  insight  into  things  that  they 
had  supposed  to  be  known  only  to  them- 
selves, how  their  very  irregular  reading  of 
the  newspapers,  from  time  to  time,  as  they 
received  them,  had  first  awakened  their 
interest  in  a  vague  and  general  way  in  the 
bank  burglary  case ;  how,  as  their  interest 
became  intenser,  and  the  descriptions  of  the 
fleeing  criminal  became  more  and  more  de- 
tailed, they  had  at  last  so  far  coupled  one 
thing  with  another  as  to  reach  a  correct  con- 
clusion at  the  critical  moment.  He  showed 
how,  but  for  this  persistent  and  minute  Pub- 
licity, they  would  never  have  dreamed  of 
arresting  the  fugitive  who  was  posing  as  their 
pilot —  how,  but  for  this,  the  criminals  would 
probably  never  have  been  caught  at  all ;  how 
their  escape  would  have  operated  as  an  en- 
couragement to  crime  everywhere  by  reliev- 
ing it  of  the  fear  of  detection,  —  and  much 
else  to  the  like  effect.  It  was  a  very  inter- 
esting article,  and  it  was  one  which  set  the 
boys  thinking. 

"  After  all,"  said  Ed,  "  we  owe  a  great  deal 
more  to  the  newspapers  than  I  had  ever 
thought.     And  the  more  we  think  of  it,  the 


PUBLICITY  319 


more  we  see  that  we  owe  it  to  them.  I  don't 
know  whether  they  are  always  sincere  in  their 
antagonism  to  wrong  or  not,  but  at  any  rate 
in  their  rivalry  with  each  other  to  get  the 
earliest  news  and  to  stand  best  with  the 
public,  they  manage  pretty  generally  to  ex- 
pose about  all  the  wrongs  there  are,  and  to 
rouse  public  opinion  against  them.  I  sup- 
pose that,  but  for  the  newspapers,  we  should 
not  have  a  very  good  country  to  live  in, 
especially  so  far  as  big  cities  are  concerned." 

"  As  to  those  sentiments/'  said  Irv,  "  I'm 
afraid  one  Thomas  Jefferson  got  ahead  of 
you,  Ed.  I  remember  reading  that  he  said 
somewhere,  that  he  would  rather  have  a  free 
press  without  a  free  government  than  a  free 
government  without  a  free  press.  I  imagine 
his  meaning  to  have  been  that  we  could  not 
long  have  a  free  government  without  a  free 
press,  and  that  if  we  have  a  free  press  it  must 
pretty  soon  compel  the  setting  up  of  a  free 
government." 

"  But  the  newspapers  do  publish  such 
dreadful  things,"  said  Constant.  "They 
make  so  many  sensations  that  their  moral 
influence,  I  suppose,  is  pretty  bad." 

"  Well,  is  it  ?  "  asked  Irv.  "  If  there  is  a 
pest-hole  in  any  city,  where  typhus  or  small- 


320    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

pox  is  breeding,  and  a  newspaper  exposes  it, 
it  is  not  pleasant  reading,  of  course,  but  it 
arouses  public  attention  and  brings  public 
opinion  to  bear  to  compel  a  remedy.  If 
there  is  a  health  board,  the  newspapers  all 
want  to  know  what  the  health  board  is  doing  ; 
if  there  isn't  a  health  board,  the  newspapers 
all  cry  out, c  Why  isn't  there  a  health  board  ? ' 
and  presently  one  is  organized.  Now  I 
suppose  it  is  very  much  the  same  way  about 
moral  plague  spots.  If  vice  or  crime  pre- 
vail in  any  part  of  the  city,  the  newspapers 
print  the  news  of  it  and  call  upon  the  police 
to  suppress  it.  This  arouses  public  atten- 
tion and  brings  pressure  to  bear  upon  public 
officials  until  the  bad  thing  is  done  away  with, 
or  at  least  reduced  to  small  proportions." 

"  Yes,"  said  Ed,  thinking  and  speaking 
slowly,  "and  there  is  another  thing.  Even 
when  the  newspapers  print  the  details  about 
scandals,  and  we  say  it  would  be  better  not 
to  publish  such  things,  it  may  be  that  the 
newspapers  are  right;  because  every  rascal 
that  is  inclined  to  do  scandalous  things 
knows  by  experience  or  observation  that  the 
newspapers,  if  they  get  hold  of  the  facts, 
will  print  them  and  hold  him  up  to  the  exe- 
cration of  mankind.     If  the  newspapers  did 


PUBLICITY  321 


not  print  the  news  of  such  things,  every 
scoundrel  would  know  that  he  could  do 
what  he  pleased  without  fear  of  being  made 
the  subject  of  scandal.  The  first  thought 
of  every  rascal  seems  to  be  to  keep  his 
affairs  out  of  the  newspapers.  Now  per- 
haps it  is  better  that  he  cannot  keep  them 
out ;  as  he  certainly  cannot.  In  very  many 
cases,  without  doubt  or  question,  men  are 
restrained  from  doing  outrageous  things 
merely  by  the  fear  that  their  conduct  will 
be  exploited  with  pictures  of  themselves  and 
fac-similes  of  their  letters  and  everything  of 
the  kind,  in  so-called  sensational  newspapers." 

"  Well,  all  that  is  so,  I  suppose,"  said 
Will,  "  though  I  hadn't  thought  of  it  quite 
to  the  extent  that  you  have,  Ed.  I  have 
always  been  told  that  the  newspapers  were 
horribly  sensational  and  immoral,  but,  now 
that  I  think  of  it,  when  they  publish  a  story 
of  immorality,  it  is  because  somebody  has 
been  doing  the  immoral  thing  that  they 
report ;  and  as  you  say,  the  fact  that  the 
newspapers  are  pretty  sure  to  get  hold  of 
the  truth  and  publish  it  in  every  case  is 
often  a  check  on  men's  tendency  to  do  im- 
moral things." 

Before  parting  with  their  rescued  friends 


322    THE    LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

at  Vicksburg,  the  boys  had  to  go  ashore  and 
be  photographed,  at  the  planter's  solicitation. 

"  I  want  my  children  always  to  think  of 
you  young  men  as  their  friends,"  he  said, 
— "friends  to  whom  they  owe  more  than  they 
can  ever  repay.  I  don't  want  c  Baby '  to 
forget  you  as  she  might  — she  is  so  young 
still  —  if  she  did  not  have  your  portraits 
to  remind  her  as  she  grows  older.  As  for 
myself  and  my  wife  —  I  cannot  say  how 
much  of  gratitude  we  feel.  There  are  some 
things  that  one  can't  even  try  to  say.  But 
be  sure  —  "  He  broke  down  here,  but  the 
boys  understood. 

Irv  Strong,  whose  objection  to  anything 
like  a  "  scene  "  is  a  familiar  fact  to  the  reader, 
diverted  the  conversation  by  saying :  — 

"  It  would  be  a  pity  to  perpetuate  the 
memory  of  these  clothes  of  ours,  or  to  let 
the  little  ones  learn  as  they  grow  up  what  a 
ragamuffin  crew  it  was  with  whom  an  un- 
fortunate accident  once  compelled  them  to 
associate  for  a  time.  So  suppose  we  have 
only  our  faces  photographed  now,  and  send 
you  pictures  of  our  best  clothes  when  we 
get  back  home.,, 

The  triviality  served  its  purpose,  and  the 
party  went  to  the  photographer's. 


PUBLICITY  323 


When  the  time  of  leave  taking  came  there 
were  tears  on  the  part  of  the  mother  and 
the  children,  while  "  Baby  "  stoutly  insisted 
upon  remaining  on  the  flatboat  with  "  my 
big  boys,"  as  she  called  her  rescuers.  She 
was  especially  in  love  with  Phil,  who,  in  spite 
of  his  absorbing  duties,  had  found  time  to 
play  with  her  and  tell  her  wonderful  stories. 
During  the  clothes-making  wait  at  Vicks- 
burg,  indeed,  Phil  had  done  little  else  than 
entertain  the  beautiful  big-eyed  child.  He 
repeated  to  her  all  the  nursery  rhymes  and 
jingles  he  had  ever  heard  in  his  infancy  or 
since,  and  to  the  astonishment  of  his  com- 
panions, he  made  up  many  jingles  of  his  own 
for  her  amusement.  He  made  up  funny 
stories  for  her  too,  —  stories  that  were  funny 
only  because  he  illustrated  them  with  comi- 
cal faces  and  grotesque  gestures. 

So  when  the  time  of  parting  came  the 
child  clung  to  him,  and  had  to  be  torn  away 
in  tears.  I  suppose  I  ought  not  to  tell  it 
on  Phil,  but  he  too  had  to  turn  aside  from 
the  others  and  use  his  handkerchief  on  his 
eyes  before  he  could  give  the  command  to 
"  cast  off"  in  a  husky  and  not  very  steady 
voice. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 


The  moon  was  gibbous  in  its  approach 
to  the  full  when  the  boat  left  Vicksburg. 
So  all  the  way  to  their  journey's  end  the 
boys  had  moonlight  of  evenings  except  when 
fog  obscured  it  briefly,  and  that  was  not 
often. 

As  they  floated  down  the  river,  with  sub- 
tropical scenery  on  either  hand,  with  palms 
and  live-oaks  and  other  perennial  trees  giv- 
ing greenery  of  the  greenest  possible  kind 
at  a  season  of  the  year  when  at  their  home 
not  a  leaf  remained  alive  and  all  the  trees 
were  gaunt  skeletons,  the  boys  lived  in  some- 
thing like  a  dream.  And  at  night  the  moon- 
light, immeasurably  more  brilliant  than  any 
they  had  ever  seen,  additionally  stimulated 
their  imaginations  and  captivated  their  fancy. 

"That   is    Baton    Rouge/'    said    Ed,    as 
they  came  within  sight  of  a  city  on  the  left 
side  of  the  river.     "It  means  c  red  stick/  " 
324 


DOWN   "THE    COAST"  325 

"Why  in  the  world  did  anybody  ever 
name  a  town  c  red  stick '? "  asked  Irv. 

"  Why,  because  when  Tecumseh  came  — '*- 
down  this  way  to  persuade  all  the  Indians 
to  join  in  a  war  upon  the  whites,  as  I  told 
you  up  in  New  Madrid  Bend,  he  offered  red 
sticks  to  the  warriors.  All  that  accepted 
them  were  thereby  pledged  to  join  in  the 
war.  It  was  here  that  the  first  red  sticks 
were  distributed,  and  so  this  spot  was  called 
c  Baton  Rouge/" 

"  But  why  didn't  they  call  it  c  Red  Sticks ' 
and  have  done  with  it?  "  asked  Will.  "  Why 
did  they  translate  it  into  French  ?  " 

"The  Indians  didn't  know  English,"  an- 
swered Ed.  "  The  French  first  explored 
the  Mississippi,  and  they  not  only  gave 
French  names  to  everything,  but  they  taught 
a  rude  sort  of  French  to  the  Indians.  There 
is  a  town  on  the  upper  Mississippi  called 
c  Prairie  du  Chien/  That  means  c  the  prai- 
rie of  the  dog/  Then  there  is  c  Mar- 
quette' in  Wisconsin,  named  after  a  great 
French  missionary  and  explorer.  And  there 
is  Dubuque,  and  there  are  half  a  dozen  other 
places  with  old  French  names.  In  Arkansas 
there  is  a  river  called  the  c  St.  Francis.'  And 
the  name    Arkansas    itself  was    originally  a  J 


326    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

French  effort  to  spell  the  Indian  word 
c  Arkansaw.'  By  the  way,  the  Legislature 
of  that  state  has  passed  a  law  declaring  that 
the  proper  pronunciation  of  the  state's  name 
is  'Arkansaw.'  It  is  said  that  when  James 
K.  Polk,  afterward  President,  was  speaker 
of  the  House  of  Representatives,  there  were 
two  congressmen  there  from  Arkansas.  One 
of  them  always  pronounced  his  state's  name 
c  Arkansas/  as  if  it  were  English,  and  with 
the  accent  on  the  second  syllable,  while  the 
other  always  called  it  'Arkansaw.'  Polk 
was  so  excessively  polite  that  when  either 
of  the  two  arose  to  speak,  he  recognized  him 
as  c  the  gentleman  from  Arkansas '  or  as  c  the 
gentleman  from  Arkansaw,'  accordingly  as 
the  gentleman  recognized  was  in  the  habit 
of  pronouncing  the  word." 

"That's  interesting,"  said  Phil.  "And 
I  suppose  the  same  thing  is  true  about  the 
c  Tensaw '  country  in  Alabama.  I  see  that 
it  is  spelled  on  most  maps  c  Tensas,'  but  on 
some  it  is  spelled  c  Tensaw,'  and  I  suppose 
that  is  the  right  pronunciation." 

"  It  is,"  said  Ed.  "  And  then  there  is  the 
Ouachita  River.  Its  name  is  pronounced 
c  Washitaw,'  but  spelled  in  the  French  way. 
I  once  heard  of  a  man  who  stayed  in  New 


DOWN    "THE   COAST"  327 

Orleans  for  six  weeks,  looking  every  day  for 
the  advertisement  of  some  steamboat  going 
up  that  river.  He  saw  announcements  of 
boats  for  the  Ouachita  River,  of  course,  but 
none  for  the  c  Washitaw.'  Finally,  some- 
body enlightened  him.  You  see  these  French 
names  were  bestowed  when  French  was  the 
only  language  of  this  region,  and  they  have 
survived." 

The  boys  were  studying  the  map  by  the 
almost  superfluous  light  of  a  lantern.  Pres- 
ently one  of  them  said  :  — 

"A  little  way  down  the  river,  on  the 
western  bank,  is  a  place  called  Plaquemine. 
That  also  is  French,  I  suppose  ? " 

"  Certainly,"  answered  Ed,  cc  and  it  is 
a  region  with  an  interesting  history.  It  was 
there  that  the  Acadians  went  when  they 
were  driven  out  of  their  home  in  British 
America.  Longfellow  tells  all  about  it 
in  the  poem  c  Evangeline.'  I'll  read  some 
of  it,"  he  added,  rising  to  go  below  for  the 
book. 

"  No,  don't,"  pleaded  Irv.  "  That  poem 
gives  me  €  that  tired  feeling.'  Its  story  is 
beautiful.  Its  sentiment  is  all  that  could 
be  desired.  But  its  metre  makes  me  feel  as 
if  I  were  stumbling  over  stones  in  the  dark," 


328    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

"  I'll  bet  your  favorite  wager,  a  brass 
button,  Irv,  that  you  can't  quote  a  single 
line  of  the  poem  you  are  so  ready  to  criti- 
cise," said  Will  Moreraud,  who  was  Long- 
fellow mad,  as  his  comrades  said. 

"Well,  I'll  take  that  bet,"  said  Irv. 
"And  I'll  give  you  odds.  I'll  bet  seven 
brass  buttons  to  your  one  that  I  can,  off 
hand,  repeat  the  worst  and  clumsiest  four 
lines  in  the  whole  poem." 

"  Go  ahead,"  said  Will.  "  I'll  buy  a  glit- 
tering brass  button  in  New  Orleans,  'scal- 
loped all  the  way  round  and  halfway  back/ 
as  the  boy  said  of  his  ginger  cakes,  and  pay 
the  bet  if  I  lose." 

"  All  right,"  said  Irv.     "  Here  goes  :  — 

€  Every  house  was  an  inn,  where  all  were  welcomed 
and  feasted  ; 

For  with  this  simple  people,  who  lived  like  brothers 
together, 

All  things  were  held  in  common,  and  what  one  had  was 
another's. 

Yet  under  Benedict's  roof  hospitality  seemed  more  abun- 
dant.' " 

"  It  really  doesn't  sound  like  poetry," 
said  Phil.  "  But  then,  I'm  no  judge.  All 
the  same,  Irv  wins  the  bet,  and  I'll  exercise 
my  authority  as  commander  of  this  craft  and 


DOWN   "THE   COAST"  329 

company  to  compel  you,  Will,  to  buy  and 
deliver  that  brass  button." 

"  But  how  do  you  know  that  those  four 
lines  are  the  worst  in  the  poem  ? "  asked 
Will. 

"  Because  there  simply  couldn't  be  worse 
ones/'  said  Phil,  "and  unless  you  produce 
some  others  equally  bad,  I  shall  hold  these 
to  be  the  worst/' 

"  Now,"  said  Ed,  "  you  fellows  are  very 
free  with  your  criticisms.  But  perhaps  you 
don't  know  as  much  as  you  might.  Long- 
fellow undertook  to  write  in  hexameterSo 
We  all  know  what  hexameters  are,  because 
we  have  all  read  some  Latin  poetry.  But 
there  is  this  difficulty :  a  hexameter  line 
must  end  in  a  spondee  —  or  a  foot  of  two 
long  or  equally  accented  syllables.  Now 
there  is  only  here  and  there  a  word  in  the 
whole  English  language  that  is  a  spondee. 
The  only  spondees  available  in  English  are 
made  up  of  two  long,  or  two  equally  accented 
monosyllables.  That  is  why  the  metre  of 
Evangeline  is  so  hard  to  read  with  ease,  or 
at  any  rate  it  is  one  of  the  reasons.  Long- 
fellow uses  trochees  —  that  is  to  say,  feet 
composed  of  one  long  and  one  short  sylla- 
ble, instead.     In  one  case  he  uses  the  word 


330    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

'  baptism '  as  a  spondee,  but  in  fact  it  is  a 
dactyl,  consisting  of  one  long  and  two  short 
syllables.  Edgar  Allan  Poe  pointed  that 
out." 

"  Why  did  he  write  in  that  metre,  then," 
asked  Will,  "  if  it  is  impossible  in  English  ?  " 

"  Because  he  was  a  Greek  and  Latin 
scholar,  and  was  so  enamored  of  the  hexam- 
eter verse  that  he  tried  to  reproduce  it  in 
English.  He  didn't  accomplish  the  pur- 
pose, but  he  wrote  some  mighty  good  things 
in  trying  to  do  it." 

"  But  tell  us,  Ed,"  said  Constant,  "  why 
did  Evangeline's  people  come  all  the  way 
down  here  ? " 

"They  were  French,  and  they  naturally 
sought  for  a  country  where  the  French  con- 
stituted the  greater  part  of  the  population. 
This  wasn't  English  territory  then.  By  the 
way,  that  reminds  me  of  a  good  Vevay 
story.  When  I  was  a  very  little  boy,  I 
used  to  go  occasionally  to  pay  my  respects 
to  the  oldest  lady  in  town  — c  Grandmother 
Grisard,'  as  we  all  reverently  called  her.  She 
was  a  lovely  old  lady,  and  she  once  told 
me  how  she  came  to  Vevay.  She  set  out 
from  Switzerland  very  early  in  this  century, 
being  then    a   young   girl,  to  come  to  this 


DOWN   "THE   COAST "  331 

French-settled  Red  River  country,  where 
her  people  had  friends.  But  there  are  two 
Red  Rivers  in  America,  this  one  and  the 
Red  River  of  the  North,  which  runs  from 
Minnesota  northward  into  Manitoba. 
Europeans  were  rather  weak  on  American 
geography  in  those  days,  so  instead  of 
bringing  this  young  girl  to  the  Red  River 
of  Louisiana,  the  transportation  people  took 
her  to  the  Red  River  of  the  North.  That 
region  was  then  entirely  wild.  Indians  and 
Canadian  half-breeds  were  practically  its  only- 
inhabitants,  and  so  the  young  Swiss  girl  was 
in  the  greatest  peril. 

"  She  learned,  after  a  while,  that  some  Swiss 
people  had  settled  at  Vevay,  in  what  was 
then  the  wild,  uninhabited  Northwest  Terri- 
tory. So  she  set  out  to  find  Vevay,  and  to 
find  people  that  could  talk  her  own  mother 
tongue.  It  was  an  awful  journey  across  the 
wild,  savage-haunted  prairie  region  that  now 
constitutes  Minnesota,  Wisconsin,  Illinois, 
and  Indiana,  but  she  made  it.  It  required 
months  of  time.  It  involved  terrible  hard- 
ships and  fearful  dangers  from  the  Indians. 
But  after  the  long  struggle  the  young  Swiss 
girl  reached  Vevay  and  was  again  among 
people  of  her  own  race,  who  spoke  her  own 


332    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

language.  She  soon  after  married  the  most 
prosperous  man  in  the  village,  Mr.  Grisard, 
and,  as  you  all  know,  her  sons  and  her 
grandsons  have  ever  since  been  men  of 
mark  in  the  town."  1 

"  Good  for  you,  Ed  !  "  said  Will  M ore- 
raud.  "  We  fellows  of  Swiss  descent  thank 
you.  We  are  all  more  or  less  akin  to 
Grandmother  Grisard,  after  two  or  three 
generations  of  intermarriages,  and  now  that 
we  know  her  story  we  shall  cherish  it  as  a 
family  legend  of  our  own.  In  fact,  I  sus- 
pect that  our  Swiss  forefathers  and  fore- 
mothers  made  a  pretty  good  place  out  of 
Vevay  before  the  Virginians  and  Yankees 
and  Scotch-Irish  from  whom  you  fellows 
sprang  ever  thought  of  settling  there." 

"Of  course  they  did,"  said  Ed;  "that's 
why  our  people  settled  there.  The  Swiss 
settlers  must  have  been  people  of  the  highest 
character,  or  their  descendants  wouldn't  be 
the  foremost  citizens  of  the  town,  as  they  are 
to-day.  It  it  a  curious  fact,  by  the  way, 
that  when  they  settled  at  Vevay  they  tried 
to  do  precisely  what  they  and  their  ancestors 
had  always  done  in  their  own  country, — 
they  planted  vineyards,  and  set  out  to  make 

1  This  story  is  true  in  every  particular.  —  Author. 


DOWN   "THE    COAST"  333 

wine.  My  father,  before  he  died,  told  me 
that  in  his  boyhood  four-fifths  of  the  lands 
cultivated  by  the  Swiss  were  planted  in  vine- 
yards. Henry  Clay  was  greatly  interested 
in  their  work,  and  tried  hard  to  introduce 
Vevay  wine  in  Washington,  and  to  secure 
tariff  protection  for  it." 

"  What  became  of  the  vineyards  ?  "  asked 
Constant. 

"  Why,  the  temperance  wave  destroyed 
them.  It  came  to  be  thought  wrong,  and 
even  disreputable,  to  make  or  sell  wine,  or 
anything  else  that  had  alcohol  in  it.  So, 
little  by  little,  the  Swiss  people,  who  were 
always,  above  all  things,  reputable  and 
moral,  dug  up  their  vineyards,  and  planted 
corn  instead." 

"  Yes,"  said  Will  Moreraud.  "  I  remem- 
ber hearing  a  rather  pretty  story  on  that 
subject  concerning  a  kinsman  of  my  own. 
He  had  his  dear  old  grandmother  —  or 
great-grandmother,  I  forget  which — as  an 
inmate  of  his  house,  and  when  the  move- 
ment to  convert  the  vineyards  into  cornfields 
was  at  its  height,  the  old  lady  strenuously 
objected.  She  said  that  she  had  been  born 
in  a  vineyard,  and  had  all  her  life  looked 
out  upon  vineyards  through  every  window. 


334    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

My  kinsman  was  very  tender  of  his  grand- 
mother's feelings.  But  at  the  same  time  he 
was  resolved  to  change  his  vineyards  into 
cornfields.  He  knew  that  the  old  lady 
could  never  leave  the  house,  owing  to  her 
great  age  and  infirmities.  So  he  went  to 
every  window  in  every  story  of  the  house 
and  studied  the  landscape.  Having  ascer- 
tained precisely  how  far  it  was  possible  for 
the  old  lady  to  see  from  the  windows  of  the 
house,  he  ordered  all  the  vineyards  beyond 
her  line  of  vision  destroyed,  and  all  within 
it  preserved." 

"  Beautiful !  "  cried  Phil.  "  There  ought 
to  be  more  men  like  that  one,  if  only  to 
make  the  dear  old  grandmothers  happy  in 
the  evening  of  their  lives." 

"  Perhaps  there  are  more  of  them  than 
you  think,"  said  Constant.  "  It's  my  im- 
pression that  men  generally  are  pretty  good 
fellows,  if  you  really  find  out  about  them." 

"  Of  course  they  are,"  said  Ed.  "  Does 
it  occur  to  you  that  when  we  fellows  under- 
took this  flatboat  enterprise,  every  man  in 
Vevay  stood  generously  ready  to  help  ?  It 
is  always  so.  Men  are  usually  kindly  and 
generous  if  they  have  a  chance  to  be.  As 
for  women  —  " 


DOWN   "THE   COAST"  335 

"  God  bless  them  !  "  cried  Irv,  rising  to 
his  six  feet  of  height. 

"  So-say-we-all-of-us !  "  chanted  Phil,  to  the 
familiar  tune,  while  the  rest  joined  in. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV 

A    TALK    ON    DECK 

The  latter  end  of  the  voyage  was  unevent- 
ful in  outward  ways  at  least,  but  it  led  to 
some  things,  as  we  shall  see  later  on,  that 
were  of  more  consequence  in  the  lives  of  the 
five  boys  than  all  the  strenuous  happenings 
which  had  gone  before. 

The  boat  no  longer  leaked.  A  few  min- 
utes' pumping  once  in  every  two  or  three 
hours  was  sufficient  to  keep  her  bilge  free 
from  water.  The  river,  though  falling  rap- 
idly, was  still  full,  but  the  levees  were  keep- 
ing it  within  bounds,  and  there  were  no 
crevasses  to  avoid.  There  were  fogs  now 
and  then,  but  the  flatboat  floated  through 
them  without  any  apparent  disposition  to 
run  away  again.  There  were  the  three  meals 
a  day  to  cook,  and  the  lanterns  to  keep  in 
order,  but  beyond  that  and  the  washing  of 
clothes,  sheets,  and  the  like,  there  was  liter- 
ally nothing  to  do  but  talk. 

And  how  they  did  talk !  And  of  how 
336 


A   TALK   ON   DECK  337 

many  different  things  !  We  have  heard  one 
of  their  conversations.  Suppose  we  listen  to 
some  more  of  them. 

"  I  say,  Ed/'  said  Irv,  "  with  this  wonder- 
ful river  bringing  the  products  of  a  score  of 
states  to  New  Orleans  for  a  market,  how  is  it 
that  New  Orleans  isn't  the  greatest  port  in 
the  country  ? " 

"  It  came  near  being  so  once.  It  was 
New  York's  chief  rival,  and  some  day  it 
may  be  again.  So  long  as  there  were  no 
railroads  New  Orleans  was  the  chief  outlet, 
and  inlet  as  well,  for  all  this  great  western 
and  southern  country.  Not  only  did  most 
of  the  western  produce  and  southern  cotton 
come  to  it  for  sale  at  home  or  shipment 
abroad,  but  most  of  the  foreign  goods  im- 
ported for  the  use  of  the  West  and  South 
came  in  through  New  Orleans,  and  so  did 
most  of  the  passengers  who  wanted  to  reach 
any  point  west  of  the  Alleghanies." 

"  Why  didn't  it  go  on  in  that  way  ? " 
asked  Constant. 

"  In  the  first  place,  a  wise  governor  of 
New  York,  De  Witt  Clinton,  persuaded  the 
people  of  that  state  to  make  some  artificial 
geography.  They  dug  canals  to  connect 
the  Great  Lakes  with  the  Hudson    Riven 


338    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

This  enabled  them  to  carry  western  produce 
to  New  York  all  the  way  by  water,  and  as 
cheaply  as  it  could  be  carried  down  the  river 
—  more  cheaply,  in  fact,  so  far  as  that  part 
of  it  grown  far  away  from  the  rivers  was 
concerned.  This  gave  New  York  a  very 
great  advantage.  For  New  York  is  a  thou- 
sand miles  or  more  nearer  to  Europe  than 
New  Orleans  is,  and  so  if  grain  could  be 
landed  in  New  York  at  smaller  expense 
than  in  New  Orleans,  that  was  the  cheapest 
as  well  as  the  shortest  route  to  Europe. 

"  Then  again  New  Orleans  lies  in  a  much 
hotter  climate  than  New  York,  and  so  do  the 
seas  over  which  freight  from  New  Orleans 
must  be  carried.  In  a  hot  climate  grain  is 
apt  to  sprout  and  spoil,  or  it  was  so  until 
comparatively  recent  years,  when  means  of 
preventing  that  were  discovered." 

Ed  stopped,  as  if  he  had  finished.  Will 
wanted  more  and  asked  for  it. 

"Go  on,"  he  said.  "Tell  us  all  about 
it." 

"Yes,  do,"  echoed  the  others. 

"  I  am  not  sure  that  I  know  call  about  it/  " 
answered  Ed,  "but  I  have  been  reading 
some  articles  concerning  it  since  our  trip 
awakened  my  interest,  and   if  you  want  me 


A   TALK    ON   DECK  339 

to  do  so,  I'll  tell  you  what  I  have  learned 
from  them." 

"  Do !  "  cried  Irv.  "  This  party  of  young 
Hoosiers  has  often  been  hungrier  for  corned 
beef  and  cabbage,  with  all  that  those  terms 
imply,  than  for  intellectual  pabulum  of  any 
kind  whatever.  But  at  present  our  physical 
systems  are  abundantly  fed.  What  we  want 
now  is  intellectual  refreshment,  all  of  which, 
being  interpreted,  means  c  Go  on,  Ed ;  we're 
interested/  " 

Ed  laughed,  and  continued  :  — 
"  Well,  the  war  damaged  New  Orleans,  of 
course,  not  only  by  shutting  up  the  port  for 
some  years,  but  by  impoverishing  the  south- 
ern states  which  New  Orleans  supplied  with 
provisions  and  goods  and  from  which  it 
drew  cotton.  Then,  again,  New  York  had 
and  still  has  most  of  the  free  money  there  is 
in  this  country,  the  money  that  is  hunting 
for  something  to  do.  You  know  that  money 
is  like  a  man  in  this  respect.  It  always 
wants  to  earn  wages.  Now,  when  the  west- 
ern farmer  sells  his  grain  and  the  like  to  a 
country  merchant,  he  wants  money  for  it. 
As  a  great  many  farmers  sell  at  the  same 
time,  the  country  merchant  naturally  hasn't 
enough  money  of  his  own  to  satisfy  them 


340    THE    LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

all.  So  he  ships  the  grain,  etc.,  as  fast  as 
he  receives  it,  and  makes  drafts  upon  the 
commission  merchants  to  whom  he  is  send- 
ing it.  That  is  to  say,  he  makes  them  pay 
in  advance  for  produce  shipped  in  order 
that  he  may  have  the  money  with  which  to 
buy  more  when  it  is  offered.  The  commis- 
sion merchants  in  their  turn  borrow  the 
money  from  the  banks  in  their  cities,  giving 
liens  on  the  grain  for  security.  This  is  a 
very  rough  explanation,  of  course,  but  you 
can  see  from  it  how  the  city  that  has  the 
largest  amount  of  money  c  hunting  for  a  job' 
must  draw  to  itself,  when  other  things  are 
anywhere  near  equal,  the  greater  part  of  all 
the  produce  that  can  go  at  about  the  same 
cost  to  that  or  some  other  city." 

"  That's  clear  enough,"  said  Phil.  "  But 
what  about  the  railroads  ?  Why  do  they  all 
seem  to  run  to  New  York  ? " 

"  That's  an  interesting  point,"  answered 
Ed.  "  I'm  glad  you  reminded  me  of  it. 
When  the  railroads  were  built,  each  little 
road  was  independent  of  all  the  rest.  But 
each  of  them  wanted  to  reach  New  York, 
because  the  artificial  geography  created  by 
New  York's  canals  had  made  that  the  coun- 
try's greatest  port,  and  because  New  York 


A   TALK    ON   DECK  341 

had  more  money  to  lend  on  produce,  as  I 
have  explained,  than  any  other  city.  So  as 
the  numberless  little  railroad  lines  consoli- 
dated themselves  into  great  trunk  lines,  they 
all  made  for  New  York  as  eagerly  as  flies 
make  for  an  open  sugar  barrel.  Even  the 
Baltimore  and  Ohio  road,  which  was  built 
by  Baltimore  people  to  make  Baltimore  a 
rival  of  New  York,  spent  money  in  lavish 
millions  to  secure  a  New  York  terminus 
and  make  Baltimore  a  way  station.  To 
sum  it  all  up,  the  farmer  wants  to  sell  to 
the  local  merchant  who  will  pay  him  in 
cash;  the  local  merchant  ships  his  purchases 
to  Chicago  or  any  other  intermediate  city 
whose  commission  merchants  will  make  the 
biggest  and  quickest  advances  of  money  on 
the  grain,  etc.,  before  it  arrives ;  the  mer- 
chants in  the  intermediate  cities  ship  to  the 
port  whose  commission  merchants  will  make 
them  the  largest  advances  in  their  turn  and 
thus  enable  them  to  go  on  buying  while  the 
opportunity  lasts.  That  city  is  New  York. 
Of  course  this  is  only  a  general  statement. 
There  is  often  plenty  of  money  to  lend  in 
Boston,  Philadelphia,  and  Baltimore,  and 
lately  those  cities  and  Newport  News  in 
Virginia   have   taken   a  good   deal   of  New 


342    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

York's  grain  trade.  But  what  I  have  said 
will  explain  to  you  one  of  the  reasons  why 
New  Orleans  c isn't  in  it/  in  this  matter/' 

"Then  our  wonderful  river  no  longer 
renders  a  service  to  the  country  ? "  said 
Constant,  interrogatively. 

"  Oh,  yes,  it  does,"  answered  Ed,  eagerly. 
"  It  still  carries  vast  quantities  of  goods  to 
New  Orleans,  not  only  for  consumption  in 
the  South,  but  for  shipment  abroad.  And 
even  if  it  carried  nothing,  it  would  still  be 
rendering  a  service  of  incalculable  value  to 
the  country." 

"  How  ? "  asked  all  the  boys,  in  a 
breath. 

"  By  compelling  the  railroads  to  carry 
freight  at  reasonable  rates.  Let  me  tell  you 
some  facts  in  illustration.  Somewhere  about 
the  year  1870  —  a  little  before,  I  think  it 
was  —  the  railroads  were  charging  extortion- 
ate prices  for  carrying  freight  to  eastern 
cities.  Some  great  merchants  and  steamboat 
owners  put  their  heads  together  to  stop  the 
extortion.  They  organized  the  Mississippi 
Valley  Transportation  Company,  to  carry 
freight  down  the  river  to  the  sea.  They 
built  great  stern-wheel  steamboats,  and  set 
them  to   push  vast  fleets  of  barges  loaded 


A   TALK    ON   DECK  343 

with  freight  to  New  Orleans.  This  so  enor- 
mously cheapened  freight  rates  that  the  rail- 
roads were  threatened  with  ruin,  and  New 
Orleans  seemed  likely  to  take  New  York's 
place  as  the  country's  great  grain-exporting 
city.  The  railroads  began  at  once  to  reduce 
their  rates  in  self-defence,  and  from  that  day 
to  this  they  have  had  to  reduce  them  more 
and  more,  lest  the  water  routes,  and  chiefly 
the  Mississippi  River,  should  take  their 
trade  away  from  them.  So  you  see  that 
even  if  not  one  ton  of  freight  were  carried 
over  our  wonderful  river,  which,  in  fact,  car- 
ries hundreds  of  millions  of  tons,  it  would 
still  be  rendering  an  enormous  service  to 
the  country  by  keeping  railroad  freight  rates 
down." 

The  boys  pondered  these  things  awhile. 
Then  Irv  said  :  — 

"  But  you  said  awhile  ago  that  New 
Orleans  might  some  day  again  become  New 
York's  rival  as  a  shipping  port.  Would 
you  mind  telling  us  just  what  you  meant  by 
that  ?  " 

"Why,  no,"  said  Ed,  hesitating.  "  I 
suppose  I  was  thinking  of  the  time,  which 
is  surely  coming,  when  this  great,  rich  Mis- 
sissippi Valley   of  ours  will   be  as   densely 


344    THE    LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

populated  as  other  and  less  productive  parts 
of  the  earth  are." 

"For  instance ?"  said  Will,  interrogatively. 

"Well,  I  suppose,"  said  Ed,  "that  the 
great  Mississippi  Valley  fairly  represents  our 
whole  country  as  to  population.  We  have 
in  this  country,  according  to  a  statistical 
book  that  I  have  here,  about  20  people, 
big  and  little,  to  the  square  mile,  or  some- 
what less.  Now  the  Netherlands,  according 
to  the  same  book,  have  about  351,  Belgium 
about  529,  and  England  about  540  people 
to  the  square  mile.  In  other  words,  we 
must  multiply  ourselves  by  26  or  27  before 
we  shall  have  as  dense  a  population  as  Eng- 
land now  has.  When  we  have  27  times  as 
many  people  in  the  Mississippi  Valley  as  we 
now  have,  I  don't  think  there  is  much  doubt 
that  New  Orleans  will  be  just  as  important 
a  port  and  just  as  big  a  city  as  her 
most  ambitious  citizen  would  like  her  to 
be." 

The  boys  sat  silent  for  a  while.  Then 
Irv  took  out  a  pencil  and  paper,  and  figured 
for  a  few  minutes.  Finally  he  broke 
silence. 

"  Do  I  understand  that  this  country  of 
ours  is  capable  —  taking  it  by  and  large  — 


A   TALK   ON   DECK  345 

of  supporting  a  population  as  great  to  the 
square  mile  as  that  of  England,  or  anything 
like  as  great  ?  " 

"  I  don't  see  why  not,"  said  Ed.  "  Our 
agriculture  is  in  its  infancy,  we  are  merely 
scratching  the  surface,  and  not  a  very  large 
part  of  the  surface  at  that.  We  have  arid 
and  desert  regions,  of  course,  but  on  the 
other  hand,  we  have  a  richer  soil  and  an  im- 
measurably more  fruitful  climate  than  Eng- 
land has.  England  can't  grow  a  single 
bushel  of  corn,  for  example,  while  we  grow 
more  than  two  billion  bushels  every  year. 
It  seems  to  me  clear  that  our  country,  taken 
as  a  whole,  and  this  rich  Mississippi  Valley 
especially,  can  support  a  much  larger  popu- 
lation to  the  square  mile  than  England 
can." 

"  Well,  if  it  ever  does,"  said  Irv,  referring 
to  his  figures,  "we  shall  have  a  population 
of  about  two  billion  people,  or  very  many 
times  more  than  the  greatest  nations  in  all 
history  ever  had." 

"Why  not?"  asked  Phil.  "Isn't  ours 
the  greatest  nation  in  all  history  in  the  way 
it  has  stood  for  liberty  and  right  and  prog- 
ress ?  Why  shouldn't  it  be  immeasurably 
the  greatest  in    population  and  wealth  and 


346    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

everything  else  ?  Why  shouldn't  we  multi- 
ply our  seventy  millions  or  so  of  people  into 
the  billions  ? " 

"  Well,  yes,  why  not  ?  "  asked  Irv.  "  It 
would  only  mean  that  twenty  or  thirty  times 
as  many  men  as  ever  before  would  enjoy  the 
blessing  of  liberty/' 

"  It  would  mean  vastly  more  than  that," 
said  Ed. 

"  What  ?  "  asked  Irv. 

"  It  would  mean  that  twenty  or  thirty  times 
as  many  men  stood  for  liberty  throughout  all 
the  earth  ;  it  would  mean  that  twenty  or  thirty 
times  as  many  men  as  ever  before  were  ready 
to  fight  for  liberty  and  human  right.  It 
would  mean  even  more  than  that.  It  would 
mean  that  the  Great  Republic,  planted  upon 
the  theory  of  absolute  and  equal  liberty, 
would  so  enormously  outweigh  all  other 
nations  combined,  in  numbers  and  in  physi- 
cal and  moral  force,  that  no  nation  and  no 
coalition  of  nations  would  ever  dare  dispute 
our  country's  decisions  or  balk  her  will. 
We  should  in  that  case  dominate  the  world 
by  our  numbers,  our  wealth,  and  our  produc- 
tiveness. For  in  the  very  nature  of  things, 
countries  that  already  have  from  twenty  to 
twenty-five     times    our    population    to    the 


A   TALK    ON   DECK  347 

square  mile  cannot  hope  to  grow  as  we 
inevitably  shall." 

"  But  what  if  we  don't  continue  to  stand 
for  liberty  and  human  right  ?  "  asked  Phil. 
"What  if  we  forget  our  national  mission, 
and  use  our  vast  power  not  for  freedom,  but 
for  conquest ;  not  for  the  right,  but  for  the 
wrong  ? " 

"That  is  what  every  American  citizen 
owes  it  to  his  country  to  guard  against  by 
his  vote,"  answered  Ed. 

"In  other  words,"  said  Irv  "that's  what 
we  are  here  for." 

"  Precisely,"  said  Ed.  "  But  it  is  time  to 
get  supper,  and  I,  for  one,  am  hungry." 

"  So  am  I,"  responded  Irv,  as  he  went 
below  to  bear  his  share  in  the  supper  getting. 


CHAPTER  XXXV 

LOOKING    FORWARD 

It  was  on  the  last  night  of  the  voyage 
that  Phil  broached  the  thought  that  he  had 
been  turning  over  in  his  mind  ever  since  his 
talk  with  the  rescued  Mississippi  planter. 
The  journey  was  practically  finished.  The 
Last  of  the  Flatboats  would  reach  New 
Orleans  about  ten  o'clock  the  next  morning. 
The  big  round  moon  illuminated  the  broad, 
placid  river.  Supper  was  ended.  The  lights 
were  in  their  places.  There  was  no  water 
in  the  bilge.  The  day's  work  was  done,  and 
the  hardy  young  fellows  were  lolling  about 
the  deck,  talking  all  sorts  of  trivial  things, 
when  Phil  introduced  the  subject. 

"  I  say,  boys,  does  it  occur  to  you  that  we 
fellows  have  a  splendid  opportunity  before 
us  if  we  choose  to  accept  it  ?  " 

"  Are  you  meditating  a  jump  overboard  ?  " 
asked  Irv,  "  or  did  you  just  now  remember 
the  great  truth  that  fills  my  mind,  namely, 
348 


LOOKING   FORWARD  349 

that  there's  enough  of  that  beef  pie  left  to 
make  a  good  midnight  supper  all  round  ?  " 

"  No,  for  once  I'm  serious,  Irv,"  said  Phil, 
whose  new  habit  of  seriousness  had  grown 
upon  him  with  increasing  responsibility,  until 
all  the  boys  observed  the  change  in  him  with 
wonder,  not  unmixed  with  amusement. 

"All  right,  then,"  said  Irv ;  "go  ahead. 
We're  cat  attention.'  " 

"  What  is  it,  Phil  ? "  asked  Will  More- 
raud,  seeing  that  Irv's  light  chatter  annoyed 
the  boy,  or  at  the  least  distracted  his  atten- 
tion. "You've  something  worth  while  to 
say.     So  we'll  listen." 

Phil  broke  into  the  middle  of  his  subject. 

"  Why  shouldn't  we  fellows  all  get  a  col- 
lege education  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Our  parents  aren't  able  to  give  it  to  us," 
answered  Constant. 

"  No,  but  we  are  able  to  get  it  for  our- 
selves," answered  Phil.  "  That  gentleman 
up  there  in  Mississippi  wanted  to  help  us 
do  it,  but  I  refused  that  offer  for  the  whole 
party." 

Then  he  reported  the  conversation  he  had 
had  with  the  planter,  and  his  comrades 
heartily  approved  his  course  in  refusing 
assistance. 


350    THE   LAST   OF   THE    FLATBOATS 

"  But  we  can  do  the  thing  ourselves/'  Phil 
continued.  "  Let  me  explain.  After  we 
built  this  flatboat  and  equipped  her  and 
made  up  a  purse  for  our  running  expenses, 
we  each  had  about  a  hundred  dollars  of  our 
pig-iron  money  left.  Since  then  we  have 
made  one  thousand  dollars  apiece  out  of  the 
Jim  Hughes  affair.  So  when  we  get  back 
home  we  shall  have  eleven  hundred  dollars 
apiece  to  the  good,  besides  whatever  we 
make  clear  out  of  the  trip.  That  ought  to 
be  considerably  more,  but  we  won't  count  it 
because  it's  a  chicken  that  isn't  hatched  yet. 
At  any  rate,  it  will  more  than  pay  our  fares  . 
back  to  Vevay,  so  when  we  get  home  we 
shall  have  eleven  or  twelve  hundred  dollars 
apiece.  Now  that  is  plenty  to  take  us 
through  college." 

"Well,  I  don't  know,"  said  Irv.  "I 
hear  of  young  college  men  who  spend  from 
one  thousand  to  five  thousand  dollars  a 
year." 

"Yes,"  replied  Phil,  "and  I  read  in  a 
newspaper  the  other  day  of  a  man  who  paid 
five  hundred  dollars  for  a  bouquet  to  give 
to  the  girl  he  was  about  to  marry.  But  we 
aren't  young  men  with  c  liberal  allowances ' 
and  we  aren't   bouquet    buyers.     Listen  to 


LOOKING   FORWARD  351 

me.  I  have  figured  it  all  out  carefully.  At 
many  colleges  there  is  no  charge  at  all  for 
tuition.  At  others  there  are  scholarships 
that  can  be  made  to  cover  tuition.  At  most 
of  the  colleges  in  the  West  and  South  the 
tuition  fees  are  very  small,  even  if  we  must 
pay  them.  The  principal  things  we've  got 
to  look  out  for  are  board,  clothes,  and  books. 
We  can  wear  the  same  clothes  at  college  that 
we  should  wear  at  home,  and  our  parents 
will  provide  them,  or  if  they  can't,  we  can 
earn  them  during  vacations.  Our  necessary 
books  for  the  whole  course  won't  cost  us 
more  than  fifty  or  sixty  dollars  apiece  if  we 
work  together  as  I'm  going  to  suggest. 
That  leaves  only  the  question  of  board." 

"Well,  board  will  cost  us  five  dollars  a 
week  apiece  or  two  hundred  a  year,  at  any 
decent  boarding-house,"  said  Irv. 

"Of  course,"  answered  Phil.  "But  I 
propose  that  we  shan't  live  at  any  decent 
boarding-house." 

"  How,  then  ?  " 

"Why,  you  see  we're  an  exceptional  lot 
of  young  fellows  in  some  respects.  Our 
classmates  in  college,  when  we  go  there,  may 
know  a  great  deal  more  than  we  do  about 
many  things,  and  probably  they  will.     But 


352    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

we  know  some  very  valuable  things  that 
they  do  not.  We  know  how  to  take  care 
of  ourselves.  For  a  good  many  weeks  now 
we  have  bought  and  cooked  our  own  food 
and  washed  our  own  dishes,  and  even  our 
own  clothes.  At  college  we  could  hire  the 
laundry  work  done,  but  why  shouldn't  we 
do  all  the  rest  for  ourselves  ? " 

"  Go  on,"  cried  Irv  when  Phil  paused. 
"  I  for  one  am  interested,  and  it's  obvious 
you've  thought  out  the  whole  thing,  Phil. 
Tell  us  all  about  your  plan." 

Phil  hesitated  a  little,  abashed  by  the 
approval  and  admiration  which  he  easily 
detected  in  Irv's  eager  tone  and  in  the  faces 
of  his  comrades.     At  last  he  resumed :  — 

"  Well,  you  see,  we  five  fellows  not  only 
know  how  to  cook  and  all  that  sort  of  thing, 
but  we  know  how  to  live  together  without 
quarrelling,  and  how  to  work  together  for  a 
common  purpose.  Why  shouldn't  we  go 
to  some  college  where  there  are  no  tuition 
fees,  or  very  small  ones,  hire  two  rooms, 
one  to  cook  and  eat  in,  and  the  other  to 
sleep  in,  buy  the  ten  or  twenty  dollars' 
worth  of  plain  furniture  necessary,  and 
board  ourselves  just  as  we  are  doing 
now  ? " 


LOOKING   FORWARD  353 

The  other  boys  paused,  interested  in  the 
idea.     Presently  Constant  asked  :  — 

"  How  much  apiece  do  you  reckon  the 
cost  of  board  to  be  ? " 

"  I  haven't  figured  it  out  in  detail/'  said 
Phil.  "  I've  left  that  for  Ed  to  do.  You 
remember  he  made  a  calculation  away  up 
the  river  as  to  how  much  it  costs  to  feed  a 
man  for  a  year." 

"Yes,"  said  Ed,  speaking  the  word  slowly 
as  if  thinking  ;  "  but  that  calculation  hardly 
fits  the  case.  It  related  to  a  single  person, 
and  we  are  five  persons.  We  can  live  more 
cheaply  together  than  five  persons  could  live 
separately.  Besides,  that  calculation  up  the 
river  was  made  on  a  guess-work  basis.  It 
is  very  much  better  to  base  the  calcula- 
tion on  facts,  and  fortunately  I  have  the 
facts." 

"  What  ?  "  "  Where  did  you  get  them  ?  " 
These  and  like  exclamations  greeted  Ed's 
announcement. 

"  Well,  you  see,"  said  Ed,  "  I  have  been 
keeping  accounts  in  order  to  find  out  what 
it  has  cost  us  just  to  live  on  this  voyage. 
I've  set  down  the  exact  cost  of  everything 
we  started  with  and  everything  we  have 
bought  since,   including    the    two  cords   of 

2A 


354    THE    LAST    OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

wood  we  bought  for  the  cooking-stove,  and 
which  we  haven't  used  up  yet.  I'll  figure 
the  thing  up  and  tell  you  exactly  what  it 
will  cost  us  to  board  ourselves  at  college, 
provided  we  are  willing  to  live  as  plainly 
there  as  we  do  on  this  boat." 

"Why  not?"  called  out  Irv.  "We've 
lived  like  fighting  cocks  all  the  way  down 
the  river — except  that  we've  run  out  of 
milk  pretty  often." 

"  Do  fighting  cocks  consume  large  quanti- 
ties of  milk,  Irv  ?  "  asked  Phil. 

"  No,  of  course  not.  You  know  what  I 
mean.  I'm  satisfied  to  live  in  college  pre- 
cisely as  we  have  lived  on  the  flatboat,  and 
if  I  drink  more  milk,  I  suppose  I  shall 
make  it  up  by  eating  just  so  much  less  of 
other  things." 

"  Do  you  hear  that,  boys  ?  "  called  out 
Constant.  "  Irv  agrees  that  if  we  go  to 
college  together  he'll  eat  one  pancake  less 
for  every  extra  glass  of  milk  he  drinks. 
Remember  that.  We  shall  hold  him  rigidly 
to  his  bargain." 

By  this  time  Ed,  who  had  gone  to  the 
forward  lantern  to  do  his  figuring,  —  for  one 
really  cannot  "  see  to  read  "  by  even  the 
brightest  moonlight,  as  people  often  say  and 


LOOKING   FORWARD  355 

think  they  can,  —  was  ready  to  report  re- 
sults.    He  said  :  — 

"  Counting  in  everything  we  have  bought 
to  eat,  and  everything  that  the  Cincinnati 
banker  gave  us  at  Memphis,  and  the  cost 
of  our  fuel,  I  find  that  it  has  cost  us  for  our 
table,  precisely  $3.98  per  week,  as  an  aver- 
age, since  the  day  we  left  Vevay  to  drop 
down  to  Craig's  Landing.  Let  us  say  $4.00. 
That's  80  cents  apiece  per  week,  for  we 
won't  reckon  Jim  Hughes's  board.  The 
college  year  is  forty  weeks,  or  a  little  less. 
At  80  cents  a  week  apiece,  we  can  feed  our- 
selves on  $32  a  year  each,  or  only  $128 
each  for  the  whole  four  years'  course." 

"  Good,"  said  Phil,  "  now  let's  figure  a 
little."  With  that  he  went  to  the  light  and 
made  some  calculations.  On  his  return  he 
said,  "  I  reckon  it  this  way  :  — 


Rent  jioa  year  for  each,  or  for  the  course  .  , 

Board  for  each,  I32  a  year,  or  for  the  course  .     128 

Fuel,  lights,  and  incidentals  —  say  for  each   .  .       40 

Tuition,  if  we  have  to  pay  it,  for  each  .  .100 

or  a  grand  total  of  $308  apiece  for  the 
whole  course.  For  safety,  and  to  cover 
miscalculations  and  accidents  and  illness  and 
all  the  rest  of  it,  let's  just  double  the  figures. 


356    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

That  gives  us  a  total  possible  expense  of 
$6 1 6,  or  just  about  one-half  the  money  that 
each  of  us  has  in  hand,  and  that  we  ought  to 
be  ready  to  spend  to  make  the  best  men  we 
can  out  of  ourselves." 

"  Boys !  "  said  Will  Moreraud,  rising  in 
his  enthusiasm,  "  I  move  this  resolution 
right  here  and  now :  — 

" c  Resolved,  that  Phil  Lowry  is  a  brick  ! 
Resolved,  that  we  five  fellows  shall  go  to- 
gether to  a  college  of  Phil'  Lowry's  selec- 
tion, live  in  the  economical  way  he  suggests, 
and  so  diligently  do  our  work  as  to  take 
all  the  honors  there  are  going  in  that  col- 
lege, and  astonish  the  fellows  whose  educa- 
tion has  not  included  a  flatboat  experience 
in  the  art  of  taking  care  of  oneself.' " 

The  resolution  was  adopted  without  dis- 
sent. Then  Phil  had  something  more  to 
say  :  — 

"  Now,  fellows,  I'm  a  good  way  behind 
the  rest  of  you  in  some  of  my  studies.  I'm 
younger  than  you  —  but  that's  no  matter. 
I'll  not  c  plead  the  baby  act,'  anyhow.  All 
of  you  can  easily  prepare  yourselves  for 
college  between  now  and  next  fall.  You 
probably  don't  believe  it,  but  so  can  I, 
and    so    I    will.     I    have  never  set  myself 


LOOKING   FORWARD  357 

to  study  in  earnest.  I'm  going  to  do  it 
now.  When  we  get  home,  I'll  bring  to 
bear  all  that  c  obstinate  pertinacity '  that  you 
and  Mrs.  Dupont  credit  me  with  or  blame 
me  for  —  whichever  way  you  choose  to  put 
it.  If  I  don't  pass  entrance  examinations 
next  fall  with  the  best  of  you,  you  can 
count  my  share  of  the  money  as  a  volun- 
tary contribution  to  the  expenses  of  the 
mess.  But  you'd  better  not  count  on  it 
in  that  way,  I  warn  you." 

"  Of  course  we  hadn't,"  said  Irv  Strong, 
as  Phil  went  below  to  look  after  things. 
"  I've  got  a  great,  big,  rosy-cheeked,  candy 
apple  at  home,  and  I'll  wager  it  against  the 
insignificant  head  of  any  fellow  in  the  party 
—  yours  included,  Ed  —  that  when  we  five 
fellows  present  ourselves  for  our  entrance  ex- 
aminations next  fall,  Phil  Lowry  will  knock 
the  spots  out  of  every  one  of  us." 

"  You  expect  too  much  of  him,  Irv,"  said 
Ed.  "  It  isn't  fair.  He's  from  a  year  to 
two  years  behind  us,  and  he  is  the  young- 
est and  most  immature  in  the  party." 

"  Is  he  ? "  asked  Irv,  with  challenge  in 
his  voice.  "  He  may  have  been  so  when 
we  left  Vevay,  but  he  isn't  now.  He's  the 
oldest   of    us    now   and    the    most    mature 


358    THE   LAST   OF   THE    FLATBOATS 

among  us.  You  saw  how  he  managed  things 
in  the  woods,  and  how  he  handled  Jim 
Hughes,  and  how  he  managed  the  difficult 
problem  of  the  tarpaulin,  and  all  the  rest  of 
it.  I  tell  you,  Ed,  that,  while  Phil  Lowry 
was  much  the  youngest  boy  in  this  company 
when  we  made  him  c  It  '  for  this  voyage,  he 
is  several  years  older  to-day  than  any  of  us. 
He  may  be  a  class  behind  some  of  you  fel- 
lows in  mere  book  work,  but  he  won't  stay 
so  long.  I'll  tell  you  what,  Ed,  you'll  have 
to  stir  all  your  stumps  to  keep  up  with  that 
fellow  in  college.  He  has  got  his  mettle  up 
now." 

"  I  believe  that  is  so,"  said  Ed,  thinking, 
and  speaking  slowly.  "  I  hadn't  thought 
of  it,  Irv,  but  Phil  has  developed  in  his 
mind  surprisingly  during  this  voyage." 

"  So  much  so,"  replied  Irv,  "  that  no- 
body in  this  crew  is  his  equal  when  it  comes 
to  real,  hard,  clear-headed  thinking." 

"  That  is  so,"  said  Ed,  reflectively  ;  "  but 
in  book  study  he  is  behind  all  of  us  be- 
cause he  is  younger.  He  says  he'll  catch 
up  and  —  " 

"  And  we  now  know  him  too  well  to 
doubt  that  he  will  do  all  that  he  says," 
broke  in  Will   Moreraud,  whose  admiration 


LOOKING   FORWARD  359 

for  Phil  had  grown  day  by  day  until  now 
it  scarcely  knew  any  bounds.  "  But  I  say, 
fellows,"  continued  Will,  "  we've  got  to  help 
Phil  catch  up.  For  that  matter,  there  isn't 
one  of  us  that  hasn't  a  lame  duck  of  some 
sort.     Even  you,  Ed  —  " 

"  Don't  say  c  even '  me,"  said  Ed.  "  I'm 
in  fact  the  worst  of  the  lot.  I've  gone  ahead 
of  you  fellows,  —  in  my  irregular  fashion,  of 
course,  —  but  I've  skipped  a  lot  of  things, 
and  I've  got  to  bring  them  up  before  I  can 
pass  my  examinations  for  college." 

"That's  all  right,"  said  Will,  who  was 
now  enthusiastic.  "Why  shouldn't  we  fel- 
lows form  a  €  study  club '  this  fall,  and  work 
together  ?  Of  course  the  high  school  won't 
and  can't  prepare  us  for  college  by  next 
year.  But  we  can  and  will  prepare  our- 
selves ;  and  now  that  Mrs.  Dupont  is  out 
of  the  regular  teaching  harness,  she'll  be 
delighted  to  help  us.  She  will  be  in  a 
positive  ecstasy  when  she  finds  that  five  of 
1  her  boys '  have  undertaken  a  job  of  this 
kind.  By  the  way,  let  us  stand  up  and 
bow  low  to  Mrs.  Dupont — the  best  and 
most  loving  teacher  that  any  set  of  boys 
ever  had  or  ever  will  have  in  this  world !  " 

The  obeisance  to  their  teacher  was  made, 


360    THE    LAST    OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

and  Will's  idea  of  a  "  study  club  "  was  re- 
solved upon.  The  idea,  as  developed,  was 
to  do  much  more  in  a  year  than  the  school 
course  marked  out,  especially  to  help  Phil 
forward  to  the  level  of  his  fellows,  and  to 
help  Ed  repair  the  deficiencies  that  lay  back 
of  his  irregular  attainments.  For  Ed  was 
now  so  robust  that  neither  he  nor  any  of 
his  comrades  thought  of  him  as  an  invalid. 
Instead  of  spending  the  winter  in  the  South, 
as  he  had  intended,  Ed  had  made  up  his 
mind  to  go  back  with  the  others,  to  join 
them  in  their  "  study  club,"  and  to  be  one 
of  the  five  when  they  should  enter  college. 

It  was  long  past  midnight  when  this  con- 
versation was  over.  And  the  morning  had 
active  duties  for  the  crew  of  The  Last  of  the 
Flat  boats  to  do. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI 

THE    LAST    LANDING 

As  The  Last  of  the  Flatboats  passed  the 
upper  part  of  New  Orleans,  the  boys  were 
disposed  to  gaze  at  the  strangely  beautiful 
city.  It  was  greater  in  size  than  any  city 
that  they  had  ever  seen ;  for  none  of  them 
had  visited  Cincinnati,  though  they  had  lived 
all  their  lives  within  sixty  or  seventy  miles 
of  it.  New  Orleans  was  different  in  archi- 
tecture, situation,  and  everything  else  from 
Louisville  and  Memphis,  cities  at  which 
they  had  looked  up  from  the  river,  while 
at  New  Orleans  they  found  themselves  look- 
ing down,  and  taking  almost  a  bird's-eye 
view  of  the  city.  Then,  too,  the  palm 
gardens,  the  evergreen  trees,  and  glimpses 
every  now  and  then  of  great  parterres  of 
flowers,  growing  gayly  in  the  open  air  even 
in  late  autumn,  filled  them  with  the  feeling 
that  somehow  they  had  come  into  a  world 
quite  different  from  any  they  had  ever 
dreamed  of  before. 

361 


362    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

Finally,  there  were  the  miles  of  levee, 
thickly  bordered  with  steamships  and  sail- 
ing craft  of  every  kind,  all  so  new  to  them 
as  to  be  a  show  in  their  eyes.  The  forests 
of  masts,  the  towering  elevators,  the  wharves 
piled  high  with  cotton  in  bales  and  sugar  in 
hogsheads  and  great  piles  of  tropical  fruits, 
appealed  strongly  to  their  imaginations. 
There  was  a  soft  languor  in  the  atmos- 
phere, and  the  red  sunlight  shone  through 
a  sort  of  Indian  summer  haze,  which  made 
the  city  look  dream-like,  or  as  if  seen 
through  a  fleecy,  pink  veil. 

Presently  Phil  put  an  end  to  their  mus- 
ings. 

"  Stand  by  the  sweeps  ! "  he  called,  him- 
self going  to  the  steering-oar.  "  We  must 
make  a  landing,  if  we  ever  find  a  vacant  spot 
at  the  levee  that's  big  enough  to  run  into." 

"  I  say,  Phil,"  said  Irv,  presently,  "  there 
comes  somebody  in  a  skiff  to  meet  us ;  per- 
haps it's  some  wharf-master  to  tell  us  where 
to  land." 

A  few  minutes  later  the  skiff,  rowed  by  a 
stout  negro  man,  reached  the  boat,  and  a 
carefully  dressed  young  man  who  had  sat  in 
the  stern  dismissed  the  negro  and  his  skiff, 
and  came  aboard. 


THE   LAST   LANDING  363 

To  Phil  he  handed  his  card,  introducing 
himself  as  one  of  the  freight  clerks  of  the 
commission  merchant  to  whom  the  planter 
had  recommended  them.  It  appeared  that 
the  planter  had  not  been  content  with  giving 
them  a  letter  of  introduction,  but  had  written 
by  mail  from  Vicksburg,  and  this  was  the 
result. 

"  Mr.  Kennedy  thought  you  might  have 
some  difficulty  in  finding  the  proper  land- 
ing, so  he  told  me  to  board  you  and  show 
you  the  way." 

Phil  thanked  him,  and  under  the  man's 
guidance  The  Last  of  the  Flathoats  made  the 
last  of  her  landings. 

The  young  man  seemed  to  know  what 
to  do  about  everything  and  how  to  do  it. 
First  of  all  he  called  an  insurance  adjuster 
on  board  to  inspect  the  cargo.  This,  he 
explained,  was  necessary  so  that  all  insurance 
claims  might  be  adjusted. 

"I'm  afraid  the  flour  must  be  pretty 
wet,"  said  Phil. 

"  Why  ?  is  it  in  bags  ?"  asked  the  clerk. 

"  No,  in  barrels." 

"You  can  rest  easy,  then,"  said  the  clerk. 
"  You  can't  wet  flour  in  a  barrel.  See  there !  " 
and  he  pointed  to  a  ship  that  was  taking  on 


364    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

flour  near  by.  "  That's  flour  for  Rio  Janeiro, 
and  you  observe  that  the  crane  souses  every 
barrel  of  it  into  the  river  before  hoisting  it 
to  the  ship's  deck." 

"  So  it  does/'  said  one  of  the  boys.  "  But 
what  is  that  for  ?  " 

"  To  make  the  flour  keep  in  a  hot  cli- 
mate," answered  the  clerk.  "  Wetting  the 
barrel  closes  up  all  the  cracks  between  the 
staves,  by  making  a  thick  paste  out  of 
the  flour  that  has  sifted  into  them.  That 
makes  the  barrel  water-tight,  insect-tight, 
and  even  air-tight." 

"  But  I  should  think  the  water  would  soak 
into  the  flour  inside,"  said  Will. 

"  Can't  do  it.  Wouldn't  wet  an  ounce  of 
flour  if  you  left  a  barrel  in  the  river  for  a 
month.     Flour  is  packed  too  tight  for  that." 

"I  say,  Phil,"  said  Irv.  "Let's  go  back 
and  get  those  three  barrels  we  left  in  the 
river  when  we  were  putting  the  tarpaulin 
on." 

"  Have  you  a  memorandum  of  your 
freight,  captain  ?  "  asked  the  clerk.  "If  so, 
please  let  me  have  it,  and  I'll  make  out  a 
manifest." 

Phil  handed  him  the  little  book  in  which 
he    had    catalogued    the    freight    as    it    was 


THE   LAST   LANDING  365 

received.  Phil  had  not  the  slightest  idea 
what  a  "  manifest "  might  be,  but  he  asked 
no  questions.  "  I  prefer  to  find  out  some 
things  through  my  eyes/'  he  said  to  himself. 
So  he  watched  the  clerk,  who  spread  out 
some  broad  sheets  of  paper  on  the  little  cabin 
table  and  proceeded  to  make  out  a  formal 
manifest,  or  detailed  statement  of  the  freight 
on  board  what  the  manifest  called  "  the  good 
ship  The  Last  of  the  Flatboats"  It  was  all 
arranged  in  columns,  and  it  showed  from 
whom  each  shipment  came,  and  that  each 
was  consigned  to  the  house  of  Mr.  Kennedy. 
Having  finished  this,  the  clerk  proceeded  to 
make  out  a  duplicate,  which  he  explained 
was  to  be  sent  to  the  Exchange,  so  that  an 
accurate  record  might  be  made  there  for 
statistical  purposes. 

"I  see,"  said  Phil.  "That  is  the  way 
statistics  are  got  together,  showing  how  much 
of  every  kind  of  product  is  shipped  into  and 
out  of  each  commercial  city." 

"  Certainly,"  answered  the  clerk,  "  but, 
excuse  me,  here  come  the  reporters.  Here, 
boys,  make  your  own  manifests,"  and  with 
that  he  handed  one  of  his  copies  to  the  news- 
paper men.  They  scribbled  rapidly  on  paper 
pads  for  a  brief  while  and  then  returned  the 


366    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

manifest.  Phil  wondered,  but  asked  no  ques- 
tions. "  What  these  men  wrote  is  for  publica- 
tion in  newspapers,  so  I'll  look  in  the  news- 
papers to-morrow  and  see  what  it  is."  When 
he  did  so,  he  found  under  the  headline 
"  Manifest/'  merely  a  condensed  list  of  the 
boat's  freight  with  the  name  of  the  Kennedy- 
commission  house  as  "consignees."  This 
condensed  statement  of  freights  and  con- 
signees is  published  daily  with  reference  to 
every  boat  that  arrives,  for  the  information 
not  only  of  the  consignees,  but  also  of 
other  merchants  and  speculators  who  want 
to  buy,  and  to  that  end  want  to  know  who 
has  things  to  sell. 

The  boys  were  deeply  interested,  but  their 
studies  in  commercial  methods  were  destined 
to  be  of  brief  duration.  For  the  clerk  left 
them  almost  immediately.  Later  in  the 
day  he  came  again  and  said  to  Phil :  — 

"  You're  rather  in  luck,  captain.  The 
market  for  western  produce  is  up  to-day. 
Apples  were  particularly  high." 

"Will  they  stay  up  long  enough  for  us 
to  work  ours  off? "  asked  Phil. 

"Work  yours  off?"  exclaimed  the  clerk, 
in  astonishment.  "Why,  you've  sold  out, 
bag  and  baggage,  flatboat  and  all,  two  hours 


THE   LAST   LANDING  367 

ago.  I  came  down  to  make  delivery.  The 
buyer's  clerk  will  be  here  immediately." 

It  was  all  astonishing  to  the  western  boys, 
but  the  clerk  was  good-natured,  and  explained 
while  he  waited  for  the  buyer's  clerk.  He 
told  them  how  Mr.  Kennedy  went  to  a  big 
room  called  "  'change,"  where  all  the  other 
merchants  were  gathered,  showed  his  mani- 
fest, and  in  five  minutes  had  sold  out 
everything. 

"  But,"  said  Irv,  "  nobody  has  been  here 
to  look  at  the  goods.  How  does  the  buyer 
know  what  the  things  are  like  ? " 

"  Why,  produce  is  all  classified,  and  we 
sell  by  classes.  I  looked  over  this  cargo 
and  reported  quality  and  condition.  We 
made  sales  accordingly.  When  we  deliver, 
the  buyer's  clerk  will  look  at  the  things,  and 
if  any  of  them  are  not  up  to  the  grade  rep- 
resented, he'll  reject  them  or  take  them  at  a 
reduction,  and  so  on.  If  we  can't  agree,  the 
matter  will  be  referred  to  a  committee  of 
'change,  and  their  decision  is  final.  Both 
sides  are  bound  by  it." 

"  But  what  if  either  refused  ?  " 

"Well  —  "  hesitated  the  clerk,  "that 
couldn't  very  well  happen  ;  but  if  it  did,  the 
merchant    refusing    would    have    to    leave 


368    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

'change,  and  go  out  of  business.  You  see, 
all  business  of  this  kind  is  done  on  'change, 
and  if  a  merchant  isn't  a  member  there,  he 
simply  can't  do  any  business  at  all.  But 
pardon  me,  here  comes  the  buyer's  clerk. 
I  must  get  to  work.  Oh,  by  the  way,  here's 
the  card  of  a  comfortable,  inexpensive  hotel ; 
Mr.  Kennedy  told  me  to  give  it  to  you. 
He'll  call  to  see  you  there." 

"  But  why  can't  we  stay  on  the  boat  till 
her  buyer  is  ready  to  take  her  away  ? " 

"  Oh,  he'll  do  that  this  afternoon.  He'll 
drop  her  down  to  his  own  warehouse,  un- 
load her,  and  by  this  time  to-morrow  she'll 
be  nothing  but  a  pile  of  lumber  on  shore 
somewhere." 

"  It  fairly  makes  my  head  swim,"  said 
Irv,  "  to  see  the  way  these  city  people  go  at 
things." 

"Mine  too,"  said  Phil.  "But  I  see 
clearly  that  that's  the  way  to  get  things 
done,  and  it's  the  way  we  ought  to  manage 
in  our  study  club  when  we  get  home." 

"  But  how  ?  We  can't  have  a  big  'change 
and  all  that  sort  of  thing." 

"  I  didn't  mean  as  to  details,"  said  Phil. 
"  I  referred  to  the  spirit  of  the  thing.  When 
these  people  have  anything  to  do,  they  do 


THE   LAST   LANDING  369 

it  at  once  and  with  all  their  might.  Then 
they  drop  that  as  something  done  for,  and 
without  an  instant's  delay  they  turn  to  some- 
thing else.    That's  the  way  we  must  manage." 

"  All  right,"  said  Will  Moreraud.  "  Now 
that  we're  done  with  the  flatboat  let's  go  at 
once  to  the  hotel.  First  thing  is  to  pack 
baggage." 

So  they  all  set  about  getting  their  little 
belongings  together. 

"  What  about  our  blankets,  and  the  stove, 
and  the  cooking-utensils  and  the  remains 
of  our  food  supplies,  and  our  water  filter, 
and  the  fire  extinguishers,  and  the  tools  ?  " 
asked  Constant  Thiebaud,  in  consternation. 
"  It'll  take  a  day  or  two  to  sell  them  out." 

"  Not  if  we  set  the  right  man  at  it,"  said 
Phil.     "  I'll  go  and  see  him." 

So  he  went  to  the  merchant's  clerk,  who 
instantly  said :  — 

"  Pile  'em  all  out  on  the  levee  there,  and 
put  a  card  on  top  saying, c  For  sale  —  inquire 
on  board  the  flatboat.'  I'll  sell  'em  and 
render  you  an  account." 

"  All  right,"  said  Phil,  "  but  you'll  accept 
your  commission,  of  course  ?  " 

"Of  course.  Business  is  business.  We 
never  work  for  our  health  on  the  levee." 


CHAPTER   XXXVII 

RED-LETTER    DAYS    IN    NEW    ORLEANS 

Once  comfortably  settled  at  the  little 
hotel  near  Dryades  Street,  the  boys  pro- 
ceeded to  equip  themselves  for  seeing  the 
city.  They  bought  a  new  suit  of  clothes 
and  a  hat  apiece,  together  with  such  under- 
clothes, linen,  shoes,  and  socks  as  they 
needed.  Indeed,  they  bought  more  than 
was  necessary  for  their  immediate  wants, 
because  they  would  need  the  clothes  on 
their  return  home,  and  they  could  buy  them 
much  cheaper  in  New  Orleans  than  in 
Vevay.  Phil  decided  to  indulge  himself 
in  an  overcoat,  the  first  that  he  had  ever 
owned,  and  the  others  followed  his  example. 

"  Not  that  we  are  likely  to  need  over- 
coats very  pressingly  in  New  Orleans  at  this 
autumn  season,"  said  Irv,  "but  I  for  one 
have  a  lively  recollection  of  how  cold  it  is  in 
Vevay  every  winter." 

By  appointment  they  called  at  the  office 
of  Mr.  Kennedy,  the  commission  merchant, 
370 


RED-LETTER   DAYS  371 

the  next  day,  for  a  settlement.  He  fur- 
nished them  with  carefully  detailed  accounts, 
made  out  by  his  bookkeepers,  and  gave 
them  drafts  on  New  York  for  the  money 
coming  to  them. 

"You'd  better  send  your  drafts  by  mail 
to  your  home  bank,"  he  said.  "  If  you 
need  any  money  for  your  expenses  while 
here,  I'll  furnish  it,  and  you  can  remit  it 
from  home." 

"  Thank  you  !  "  responded  Phil.  "  We 
shan't  need  any  money  for  expenses  here. 
We've  enough  left  of  the  money  we  started 
with,  which  we  call  our  c  campaign  fund/ 
for  that.  But  how  about  our  passage  home  ? 
Do  you  happen  to  know,  sir,  about  how 
much  that  will  cost  us  ?  " 

"Whatever  you  choose  to  make  it  cost 
you,  from  nothing  at  all  up,"  answered  the 
merchant. 

A  query  or  two  brought  out  this  explana- 
tion :  — 

"You've  dropped  some  hints  in  our  con- 
versations"—  for  he  had  talked  with  them 
at  their  hotel  the  evening  before  — "  con- 
cerning your  educational  plans,  and  I  gather 
that  you  want  to  keep  all  you  can  of  the 
jnoney  you  have  made." 


372    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

"  Precisely  !  "  said  Phil.  "  Except  that 
we  mean  to  stay  here  for  a  week  to  see  all 
we  can  of  the  city,  we  don't  intend  to  spend 
a  dollar  that  we  can  save." 

"  So  I  thought/'  said  the  merchant.  "  I 
have  therefore  taken  the  liberty  of  making 
some  inquiries  for  you.  It  happens  that 
I  am  freighting  a  steamboat  with  cotton, 
sugar,  molasses,  coffee,  and  fruits,  for  Louis- 
ville. The  captain  is  a  good  friend  of  mine. 
As  he  will  have  no  way-freight,  —  nothing 
to  put  on  or  off  till  he  gets  to  Louisville, 
where  the  stevedores  will  unload  the  boat,  — 
he  has  very  little  for  deck  hands  or  rousta- 
bouts to  do.  But  there  will  be  some  'wood- 
ing up '  to  do  now  and  then,  —  taking  on 
wood  for  the  furnaces,  —  and  there  will  be 
the  decks  to  keep  clean,  the  lanterns  to  keep 
in  order,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing.  Now 
as  you  young  men  are  stout  fellows  and 
pretty  well  used  by  this  time  to  roughing 
it,  he  has  agreed,  if  you  choose,  to  take  you 
instead  of  the  roustabouts  and  deck  hands 
ordinarily  carried.  There  won't  be  any 
wages,  but  you'll  have  your  meals  from  the 
cook's  galley  and  your  passages  to  Louis- 
ville free.  Passage  from  there  to  Vevay 
will  be  a  trifle,  of  course." 


RED-LETTER   DAYS  373 

The  boys  were  more  pleased  with  the 
arrangement  than  they  could  explain  in 
words.  But  Phil  tried  to  thank  Mr.  Ken- 
nedy, ending  by  saying,  "  I  don't  know  why 
you  should  take  so  much  trouble  for  us,  sir, 
as  we're  complete  strangers  to  you." 

"  You  don't  know  why  ?  "  asked  the  mer- 
chant, with  smiles  rippling  over  his  face. 
"Well,  let  me  tell  you  that  the  man  you 
rescued  from  a  horrible  death  up  there  in 
the  Tallahatchie  swamp  is  my  brother-in- 
law,  the  woman  you  saved  is  my  sister, 
and  the  children  my  nephew  and  nieces. 
Now  you  will  understand  that  whatever  you 
happen  to  want  in  New  Orleans  is  yours,  if 
I  know  of  your  wanting  it.  We  should  all 
be  more  than  glad  to  do  vastly  more  for 
such  good  friends  as  you  if  we  could.  But 
my  brother-in-law  writes  me  that  he  talked 
with  you  about  that,  and  concluded  that 
boys  of  your  sort  are  likely  to  do  much 
better  for  themselves  than  anybody  can  do 
for  them.  Now,  not  a  word  more  on  that 
subject,  please,"  as  Ed,  with  his  big  eyes 
full  of  tears,  arose,  intending  to  say  some- 
thing of  his  own  and  his  comrades'  feelings. 
"  Not  a  word  more.  Besides,  there's  a  clerk 
waiting   for    me    at    the    door.     Go    to   the 


374   THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

opera  to-night,  and  hear  some  good  music. 
One  of  my  clerks  will  leave  tickets  at  the 
hotel  for  you.  And  be  ready  at  noon 
to-morrow  for  a  drive.  I'll  call  for  you, 
and  show  you  our  town.  Good-by  now, 
good-by  —  really,  I  mustn't  talk  longer. 
Good-by." 

And  so  the  overwhelmed  youngsters  found 
themselves  bowed  out  into  Camp  Street 
without  a  chance  to  say  a  word  of  thanks. 

The  next  day,  in  two  open  carriages, 
Mr.  Kennedy  drove  the  boys  for  hours  over 
the  beautiful  and  picturesque  old  city  —  up 
into  the  Carrollton  district,  where  are  fine 
residences  and  broad  streets ;  down  through 
the  French  Creole  region,  where  the  quaint- 
ness  of  the  city  is  something  wholly  un- 
matched in  any  other  town  in  America;  and 
out  over  a  beautiful  road  to  Lake  Pontchar- 
train,  with  luncheon  at  the  Halfway  House. 

"This  will  be  enough  for  to-day,"  said 
their  host,  as  they  rose  from  their  meal. 
"  To-morrow  morning,  if  you  young  gentle- 
men like,  we'll  drive  down  to  the  battlefield, 
where  Jackson  won  his  famous  victory  and 
saved  the  Mississippi  River  and  all  the 
region  west  of  it  from  British  control. 
We'll  drive  into  the  city  now,  and  you  would 


RED-LETTER   DAYS  375 

do  well  to  rest  this  afternoon,  for  driving  in 
this  crisp  autumn  air  makes  one  tired  and 
sleepy. " 

The  boys  protested  that  he  was  unwar- 
rantably taking  his  time  for  their  entertain- 
ment, but  he  had  a  way  of  turning  off  such 
things  with  a  laugh  which  left  nothing  else 
to  be  said. 

So  the  trip  to  the  battlefield  was  made, 
but  this  time  they  had  a  second  companion 
in  the  person  of  a  young  professor  from 
Tulane  University,  whom  Mr.  Kennedy  had 
pressed  into  service  to  explain  the  battlefield 
and  all  the  events  connected  with  it. 

On  the  following  day  Mr.  Kennedy  took 
his  young  friends  down  the  river  on  a  little 
steamer,  on  board  which  they  passed  a  night 
and  two  days,  seeing  the  forts  and  hearing 
from  the  professor  the  story  of  the  part  they 
had  played  in  Farragut's  celebrated  river 
fight,  and  visiting  the  jetties  —  those  stupen- 
dous engineering  works  by  which  the  govern- 
ment deepened  the  mouth  of  the  river  so  as 
to  permit  large  ships  to  come  up  to  the  city. 

On  the  way  back  from  this  two  days'  trip 
Mr.  Kennedy  invited  the  boys  to  dine  with 
him  at  his  home  on  the  next  evening.  With 
a  queer  smile  upon  his  lips,  he  said :  — 


376    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

"  I  ought  to  have  asked  you  to  my  house 
sooner,  perhaps,  but  I  wasn't  ready.  There 
were  some  little  details  that  I  wanted  to 
arrange  first." 

When  the  dinner  evening  came,  the  boys 
entered  the  stately  mansion  with  more  of 
embarrassment  than  they  would  have  cared  to 
confess.  It  was  the  finest  house  they  had 
ever  seen,  —  a  stately,  old-fashioned  structure, 
with  broad  galleries  running  around  three  of 
its  sides,  and  with  a  spacious  colonnade  in 
front.  It  stood  in  the  midst  of  a  garden 
of  palm,  ilex,  and  magnolia  trees,  occupying 
an  entire  city  block,  and  shut  in  by  a  high 
brick  wall,  pierced  by  great  gateways  and 
little  ones. 

Inside,  the  house  was  luxuriously  comfort- 
able, filled  with  old-fashioned  furniture, 
time-dulled  pictures,  and  here  and  there  a 
bit  of  statuary,  but  with  none  of  that  pain- 
fully breakable  looking  bric-a-brac  that  one 
finds  so  often  and  in  such  annoying  profusion 
in  the  houses  of  the  rich  or  the  well-to-do. 
There  was  nothing  here  that  meant  show, 
nothing  that  did  not  suggest  easy  use  and 
comfort. 

Mr.  Kennedy  himself  followed  the  ser- 
vant to  the  door  to  receive  his  young  friends. 


RED-LETTER   DAYS  377 

When  he  had  ushered  them  into  a  home- 
like, "  back-parlor "  sort  of  a  room,  he  ex- 
cused himself  for  a  brief  time  and  left  them. 
About  a  minute  later  they  heard  little  feet 
pattering  down  the  great  hall,  and,  an  instant 
later,  "  Baby "  toddled  in.  She  paused  a 
moment,  and  then  rushing  into  Phil's  arms 
called  aloud :  — 

"  My  boys  !  My  big  boys  !  "  Then  she 
raised  her  little  voice,  and  cried  :  — • 

"  Come,  papa !  Come,  mamma !  My 
boys  is  come  !  " 

This  was  the  "little  detail"  that  Mr. 
Kennedy  had  waited  to  arrange.  He  had 
induced  his  sister  and  her  husband  to  bring 
the  children  to  New  Orleans,  to  await  the 
flood's  subsidence ;  and  he  had  waited  for  their 
arrival  before  inviting  the  boys  to  dinner,  in 
order  that  their  welcome  might  be  eager,  and 
their  enjoyment  of  his  hospitality  free  from 
embarrassment. 

In  company  with  their  flatboat  guests,  the 
lads  felt  completely  at  home,  and  perhaps 
their  shrewdly  kind  host  aided  toward  this 
result  by  having  the  dinner  served  in  the 
most  homelike  and  informal  way  that  he 
could  manage. 

As  the  steamboat  on  which  they  were  to 


378    THE   LAST    OF   THE    FLATBOATS 

cc  work  their  way  "  up  the  river  was  to  sail 
the  next  afternoon,  this  evening  at  Mr. 
Kennedy's  was  their  last  in  New  Orleans. 

"And  what  a  delightful  finish  it  has  been 
to  all  our  experiences  !  "  said  Irv,  when  they 
all  got  back  to  their  hotel. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII 


There  is  not  much  more  of  this  story  for 
me  to  tell.  The  voyage  up  the  river  in- 
volved very  little  of  work,  and  nothing  at 
all  of  adventure.  The  steamboat  was  a  slow 
one.  She  plodded  along,  day  and  night, 
never  landing  except  when  it  was  necessary 
to  take  on  fifty  cords  or  so  of  wood,  with 
which  to  make  steam. 

Phil  and  his  comrades  took  pride  in  keep- 
ing the  decks  in  most  scrupulously  clean 
condition,  and  doing  with  earnest  care  the 
other  tasks  —  mostly  very  small  ones — 
which  fell  to  their  lot. 

It  took  about  nine  days  for  the  pottering 
old  freight  steamer  to  make  the  journey  to 
Louisville ;  for  although  the  great  flood  had 
considerably  subsided,  the  Ohio  was  still 
sufficiently  full  for  the  boat  to  pass  over  the 
falls  and  land  her  cargo  at  the  city,  instead 
of  discharging  it  at  Portland,  four  miles 
below. 

379 


380    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

Bidding  farewell  to  their  captain,  the  crew 
of  The  Last  of  the  Flatboats  donned  their 
new  clothes,  and  took  passage  for  Vevay  on 
the  mail  boat. 

They  landed  at  their  home  town  late  in 
the  afternoon,  hired  a  drayman  to  haul  their 
small  baggage  to  their  several  homes,  and 
proudly  marched  up  Ferry  Street  like  the 
returning  adventurers  that  they  were,  while 
all  the  small  boys  in  town  trudged  along 
with  them  precisely  as  they  would  have 
followed  a  circus  parade. 

After  briefly  visiting  their  homes  and  hav- 
ing reunion  suppers  there  with  their  families, 
the  boys  reassembled  in  their  old  meeting- 
place,  Will  Moreraud's  room  over  a  store. 
There  they  made  out  all  their  accounts, 
trying  hard  to  make  them  look  like  those 
prepared  by  Mr.  Kennedy's  bookkeepers 
in  New  Orleans.  They  were  then  ready  to 
settle,  on  the  next  day,  with  all  the  owners 
of  the  cargo  they  had  carried. 

When  all  was  arranged,  Phil  figured  a 
while,  and  then  said :  — 

"  Fellows,  we've  netted  a  profit  of  exactly 
four  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  clear,  by  our 
trip.  That's  ninety  dollars  apiece  to  add  to 
our  college  fund.     The  money's  in  bank  to 


"IT"  381 

my  credit.  I'll  draw  a  check  for  each  fellow's 
share." 

When  he  had  delivered  to  each  of  his 
comrades  a  check  for  ninety  dollars,  he  rose 
and  stretched  himself  and  said,  with  accents 
of  relief:  — 

"  Now  I'm  not  c  It  '  any  longer." 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  are,"  said  Irv.  "  We  fellows 
are  going  to  stick  together  now,  you  know. 
There's  the  study  club,  you  remember.  That 
will  need  an  c  It,'  and  you'll  be  the  c  It/ 
won't  he,  boys  ?  " 

"  You  bet ! "  said  all  in  a  breath. 

When  Irv  and  Ed  reported  the  voyage 
and  the  study  club  plan  to  Mrs.  Dupont, 
she  entered  enthusiastically  into  the  scheme. 

"  Don't  go  to  school  at  all  this  year,"  she 
said.  "  Come  to  me  instead.  When  bright 
boys  have  made  up  their  minds  to  study  as 
hard  as  they  can  without  any  forcing,  all 
they  need  is  a  tutor  to  help  them  when  they 
need  help.  I'll  be  the  tutor.  The  old 
schoolroom  in  my  house,  where  I  taught 
you  boys  and  your  fathers  the  multiplication 
table  long  before  graded  schools  were  thought 
of  in  this  town,  is  unoccupied.  Everything 
in  it  is  just  as  it  was  when  you  boys  were 


382    THE   LAST   OF   THE   FLATBOATS 

with  me.  I'll  have  the  maids  dust  it  up,  and 
it  shall  be  the  home  of  the  c  Study  Club.'  " 

When  the  boys  told  the  wise  old  lady  how 
Phil  had  been  made  "  It  "  on  the  voyage,  and 
how  splendidly  he  had  risen  to  his  responsi- 
bilities, she  smiled,  but  showed  no  surprise. 

"  I'm  glad  you  boys  had  the  good  sense 
to  choose  Phil  for  your  leader,"  she  said. 
"  If  you  had  asked  me,  I  should  have  told 
you  to  do  just  that.  I  am  older  than  you  by 
nearly  half  a  century.  I  have  taught  several 
generations  of  boys,  and  I  think  I  know 
boys  better  than  I  know  anything  else  in 
the  world.  Now  let  me  tell  you  about  Phil. 
He  was  born  to  be  c  It,'  he  will  always 
be  c  It/  though  he  will  never  try  to  be.  He 
has  a  gift  —  if  I  didn't  detest  the  word  for 
the  bad  uses  it  has  been  put  to,  I'd  say  he 
has  a  c  mission  '  to  be  c  It  '  in  every  endeavor 
that  he  may  be  associated  with.  Whenever 
you're  in  doubt,  be  very  sure  that  Phil  is 
your  best  c  It.'  " 

Here  this  story  comes  to  an 


END 


14  DAY  USE 

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